


Buchanan Medical

by Metalbvcky



Series: Buchanan Med [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Allergies, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Asthma, Asthmatic Steve Rogers, Bathing/Washing, Chronic Illness, Complete, Doctor Bucky Barnes, Doctor/Patient, Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Modern Bucky Barnes, Mutual Pining, POV Steve Rogers, Patient Steve Rogers, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sick Steve Rogers, Sickfic, Slow Burn, more like doctors office really, more of a medium burn to me really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metalbvcky/pseuds/Metalbvcky
Summary: Steve's childhood was filled with illnesses and dread of going to another no good doctor. Even now as an adult, his asthma persisted. But three months ago, Dr. Erskine passed away. Procrastination and fear ate him away. Now he had to find a new one since his medicine supply ran out.Little did he know, his new doctor would be the greatest thing to happen in his life.--Modern!AU. Bucky is a doctor and Steve is his patient. This is their journey through Steve's asthmatic issues
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Buchanan Med [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910059
Comments: 145
Kudos: 211





	1. You take my breath away

**Author's Note:**

> HERE IT IS! A month of outlining, drafting and editing has paid off! This fic is my dream fic. I've always wanted an AU like this cause I'm obsessed with these sorts of AU's. And there are hardly any doctor/patient fics in the Stucky fandom. So what better way than to do it myself! 
> 
> Header made by me. 
> 
> PS: I am no medical professional. This is all based on personal experience and research. So I may get some things inaccurate but I tried my best so it won't be painfully inaccurate. :D

“Damn it,” Steve cursed unhappily, shaking his empty inhaler. There went another inhaler from his stockpiled asthma meds. 

With Steve’s bedroom door open, his roommate Sam, probably heard him searching high and low for another inhaler because he stomped in with an open laptop. 

“Just check the damn site for this place,” Sam groused, impatiently shoving the device into Steve’s face. “Been telling you to find a new doctor for the last three months.” 

Steve made a rejoiced noise when he found a lone blue rescue inhaler in the back of his side table. “I’m fine Sam, I’ve been without a doctor before in my life.” Who knew how many doctors he went through in his lifetime. 

“Oh-ho, no. I can literally hear you wheezing across the room at night, Steve.” Sam said, crossing his arms with a serious look on his face, he lowered his tone to a softer level. “Listen, I get you’ve been pretty upset since Erskine passed away. But you really need to see someone. I don’t want you to end up in an emergency room.” 

Steve sighed, thinking he had no better choice with Sam standing right in front of him. He dragged the laptop closer to get a better look. 

On screen displayed a website to a local doctor's office in downtown Brooklyn. Peering closer, Steve noticed the picture of the building looked the exact same place Erskine’s had been at. 

_Buchanan Family Practice._

The website had a sleek design, easily navigable by drop down menus. One page showed photos of the office interior, a modern establishment instead of the old, dated office like Erskine’s. 

Under a tab labeled ‘Staff’ presented rows of personnel who worked at the practice. 

_Dr. James B. Barnes, MD._

_Dr. Natasha Romanoff, MD._

_Wanda Maximoff, Head Nurse._

_Thor Odinson, Nurse._

_Clint Barton, Reception._

Steve wrote down the name and number of the practice on a small sketchbook. “Thanks Sam. I might give this place a chance.” 

Sam took his laptop back, shutting it. “You’re welcome. And please, give them a call. You need to see someone already.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Steve said, eyeing the one and only inhaler he had left. “Guess it would be better than going to urgent care.” 

Later that night told him everything. He woke up coughing, choking on air. The inhaler worked thank goodness. He definitely would call them soon as they opened in the morning. 

Nerves floated around his gut as the phone dialed. A male voice picked up. 

“This is Clint at Buchanan Family Practice,” he greeted with a cheery voice. “How may I help you this fine morning?” 

That guy seemed happy. Good, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Other staff members he’d come across in the past acted like they never wanted to be there. 

“Hi, this is Steve Rogers, uh,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “I’m a new patient looking to set up an appointment.” 

“Certainly, Steve.” Papers shuffled on the other end of the line. “I’ll need some information regarding your insurance along with a few other things.” 

“Course, of course.” 

“Before we get started, do you have a particular doctor you were wanting to see?” 

“Oh, I never gave it much thought, really.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. Crap, why didn’t he pay more attention to the list of doctors. “Tell you the truth, I’ve had a lot of not so great experiences in the past.” 

“Not a problem, I understand. For you, I’d recommend Doctor Barnes.” Keys of a keyboard clicked as Clint typed. “Our patients favor him. He’s very kind and good natured as can be.” 

Steve hummed, intrigued with interest. Now that he thought about it, the website listed Doctor Barnes first. “Sure, that sounds great.” 

“Wonderful. Now regarding your insurance and transferring your medical files...” 

They went into a conversation about insurance, his previous practitioner, and if anything had been bothering him lately. 

“How does eight o’clock sharp, two days from now, sound?” 

“I can work with that.”  
  
They parted their goodbyes and afterward, Steve’s mind finally caught up to him. He committed to the task of setting up a doctor’s appointment. He will finally get his asthma checked after three months of fear. 

Thoughts littered his brain with various outcomes of how the appointment would end up being. What if the doctor thought bad of him for procrastinating so long? Would he judge Steve for it? A chronic asthmatic with a full workup of medical history shouldn’t wait that long. He damn well knew better. 

And what would Barnes look like? Too bad the website hadn't shown any pictures. His nerves would appreciate it. 

For the next couple of days, he occupied himself by sketching to ignore his negative thoughts. Art was therapeutic to Steve. Being riddled in bed with illnesses as a child inspired him to start drawing. All he could do back then. 

The next two days would pass in a blur. Hopefully, everything wouldn’t be bad as Steve’s mind made it out to be. 

* * *

What an unforeseen future. Buchanan only a mere two floors above his old doctor's office. With that factor, it eased Steve's nerves a little. Plus, he knew the building's layout and had it memorized.

Fifteen minutes to spare, Steve entered the well lit waiting room, pleasantly surprised by the layout and decor. Walls were half painted, a dark navy blue on the bottom and white at the top. Various paintings of sunsets, landscapes hung around the walls. Chairs were an ordinary brown wood, beige cushions with flowery patterns to the backrests. 

To Steve’s left, a man sat at the check in station, to the very right was the doors leading to the exam rooms. 

Steve crossed over to the reception desk. The man sitting in front of a computer wore a deep purple scrub top with a name embroidered, ‘Clint Barton.’ 

“Good morning. Hope you're doing well.” Clint looked up with a smile, pushing a clipboard forward. “Go ahead and sign in right there.” 

“Mornin’, I’ve been better but thanks,” Steve said, signing his name. 

Clint nodded with a small grin, noticing Steve’s name on the clipboard. “Oh, you’re Steve from the phone two days ago. Good to meet you,” he said. “Doctor Barnes just arrived not too long ago. You’ll do great.”  
  
Another clipboard pushed in front Steve, alongside a pen. “Just need some paperwork filled before you’re called back.” 

“Got it, thank you.” 

Steve sat in a chair off the side, filling in every little detail listed as required. Age? _Twenty six._ Known illnesses? _Asthma, allergies. Current medication?_ He stopped writing and hovered above the page. He’d run out of his daily meds a month ago. All he was down to was a single reliever inhaler. _None_ , he wrote.

It didn’t take long to fill everything out since he could recite his medical history on cue. Information practically burned in his brain with his experience. 

No more than five minutes later, a woman with dark long hair and an eastern European accent called his name. 

“Steve Rogers?” 

May as well get it over with. The sooner he could leave, the better. Despite what Clint said, Barnes better not be another old, impatient doctor who wouldn’t take him seriously. 

Wanda, she introduced herself, led him down the hall to a room labeled vitals.

“Just need your weight and height then I’ll take your temperature and blood pressure.” Wanda gestured for him to stand on to the scale. 

As Steve waited for the digital scale to calibrate, Wanda pulled the height bar up. A hundred and twenty seven, the scale read. To give himself credit, he always was the little guy with the smallest body, barely five feet four. Even Wanda towered over him, and she was shorter than Clint. 

Wanda wrote some notes into Steve’s chart, asking him to sit on the chair afterward. She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his upper left arm. As it inflated, a thermometer pressed against his forehead, beeping a moment later. 

“Looks good, you can go ahead and make yourself comfortable in room six, it's just across the hall,” Wanda said. 

Steve expressed his thanks before excusing himself.

Directly in front of him was a countersink combo with a stool off the side. To the right, a paper covered exam table with a window directly above it. Open blinds revealed a gorgeous view of downtown Brooklyn. 

Photographs of short haired white cats were scattered on the far left wall. On the counter sat a framed photo of a well built man with long brown hair. His arm was draped over the shoulders of a woman with a similar shade of hair. They were sitting down, looking at each other, and laughing. 

Interesting, that must be the doctor. He didn’t look maybe five or so years older than Steve. Only his side profile was visible, so Steve still wasn’t completely sure what he looked like. 

Wanda returned to place the chart on the shelf attached to the outside door. “Have a seat, Doctor Barnes will be with you shortly,” she said, closing the door behind herself. 

Nerves kicked up in gear as he anxiously waited. The silence mixed with the ticking of a clock only fueled his anxiety. Time seemed like it dragged on for eternity. 

The chart slid against the wood of the door, a moment later, it followed with a few soft knocks. 

Out walked the doctor with dark hair pulled into a neat bun, lower half down to shoulder length. Loose strands framed his well trimmed, bearded face. 

Barnes wore a white coat over a burgundy dress shirt, a stethoscope strung around his neck. The way his biceps bulged out the sleeves revealed well defined muscle. That tight shirt hugged his abs in all the right ways. 

Barnes very well may be the most gorgeous man Steve ever laid eyes on. Probably the hottest too, definitely hot. Steve mentally kicked himself for not scheduling an appointment sooner. Did he get a doctor or a model? Those killer looks alone were enough to settle his nerves. 

Beautiful plump lips curled into a smile, he looked so soft and cuddly. “Hi Mr. Rogers, I’m Dr. Barnes,” he greeted, closing the door. “But please, call me Bucky. Barnes makes me feel older than I actually am.” 

Barnes— no wait, Bucky— what kind of name was Bucky, anyway? Bucky set the chart on the counter, his gazing smile not vanishing for a second. 

“You’re rather quiet,” Bucky said while washing his hands. “You okay, Mr. Rogers?” 

Steve cleared his throat. “Yes,” he whispered, turning shy all of a sudden, thanks to the hot stud of a doctor standing before him. “If we’re going by a first name basis then I insist you can call me Steve.” 

“Okay, Steve.” Bucky wiped his hands dry with some paper towels. “I went over your file, it seems you’ve been through the wringer.” 

Right. Medical history. He could do that. 

“Oh most definitely,” Steve said, getting into the groove of telling his history of illnesses. “Got sick many times as a kid, but unfortunately my immune system still isn’t all that great.” 

Bucky nodded, he started counting with his fingers. “Asthma, Allergies, Scarlet Fever, Bronchitis, Appendicitis,” he whistled at the end. “So besides all that, what brings you in today?” 

“Well for starters, my former doctor passed away three months ago.” Steve’s eyes were downcast, grieving for the man, and guilty he procrastinated for so long.

“Wouldn’t happen to be Dr. Erskine, would it?” Bucky raised a single brow.  
  
“Him, yes.” Steve stared at his feet, not wanting to make eye contact. His legs were so short, they dangled off the table like a child. 

“Oh, I’m sorry about that.” Bucky’s voice came off as quiet, apologetic even. “I met him from time to time over the last couple years. He was a good man, truly cared about his patients.”

“Mmhm, I’ve put off finding a new doctor since,” Steve said, fiddling with his hands. “I uhm, haven’t had the best experiences until I met him.” 

Bucky leaned against the counter, hands were in his coat pockets. “That’s completely understandable, having the patient's trust is the number one priority of being a good doctor. And I’m sorry you’ve had negative experiences.” 

“It is, thank you.” Steve lifted his gaze back up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Dr. Erskine was trustworthy, especially with my frequent asthma flare ups.” 

“Speaking of asthma, that’s my most concern given your history.” Bucky crossed one leg over the other. “I’ve read your file but could you tell me what medications you’re taking right now?” 

Hospitalizations for Steve’s major attacks were no exemption. Some were so severe he had to be intubated and hooked up to all of those machines and tubes. Certainly the most terrifying moments of his life. 

Steve took his blue inhaler out his jeans pocket. “This is all I’ve got.” He rolled the small device back and forth in his hand. “I used up my daily inhaler about a month ago and just two days ago I ran out of spare relievers.” 

Bucky hummed in what sounded of distaste like he disapproved of what he was hearing. “Okay.” He gave a short nod of the head. “How often do you use it? Per week specifically.” 

“About three or four, sometimes five on a bad week.” Back in Steve’s mind, he knew his asthma wasn’t in control. He hesitated for too long. 

“Hm, a little much,” Bucky hummed again in displeasure, writing some notes into Steve’s file. “Well, then Steve. I’d like to do a quick exam to get an idea of what’s going on.” 

“Course.” Steve gave Bucky a sheepish smile. 

Dreading the appointment was supposed to be worrying about another cranky old doctor. Not drooling over a hot model of a doctor. Now the guy would be right in Steve’s personal space. 

God, those dress pants hugged Bucky’s hips and thighs in all the right ways. They were the right fit too, maybe tailored just for him. Even the coat fits him perfectly. Steve wondered what he looked like without it. And that beard, what would it feel like against his skin? 

Steve really shouldn’t be thinking those sorts of things. Bucky’s the doctor. Steve was his patient. 

A hand squeezed his shoulder. “You alright, pal?” Bucky’s blue eyes, like a fresh spring waterfall, stared into Steve’s eyes. “Tried calling your name and couldn’t get your attention.”  
  
_When did Bucky get so close?_

“Uh-huh.” Steve’s eyes widened, looking past Bucky’s shoulder, not wanting to make eye contact for the second time. “Yeah. I uh, am just nervous is all.” 

Lies, he wasn’t nervous. Okay, so it wasn’t a complete lie. Circumstances were just vastly different now. Instead of being anxious about an ordinary doctor, he was nervous about _Bucky_ examining him. 

Those feelings slapped Steve in the face out of nowhere. Like a wet paper towel. A shiver ran down his spine at the mere thought of Bucky’s fingers grazing his skin. 

Bucky turned momentarily, retrieving an otoscope from the counter. “Promise I’ll be gentle,” he said with a friendly smile, adding a disposable tip to the device. 

Steve mumbled a quiet, “okay.” His limbs felt like goo, he could melt right then and there. 

True to Bucky’s word, he was careful, soothing even.  
  
Fingers tugged Steve’s ear up and outward, Bucky rested his scope donned hand on the side of Steve’s cheek. By far the most pleasant ear exam he ever had. Bucky repeated the same on the other side. 

“Ears look clean,” Bucky said, throwing away the tip. 

Bucky pulled a wooden stick from a jar and a small penlight from his coat pocket. “Open your mouth and say, ‘ah.’” 

“Ahh,” Steve said, sticking his tongue out. 

Bucky pressed the stick against Steve’s tongue, shining the light inside and peering closely to his throat. Steve always hated that part. He had an awful gag reflex for as long as he could recall.

Maybe those sparkling blue eyes would be enough to distract him. 

Unlucky as ever, he still gagged. 

Soon as he started coughing, Bucky backed off. “Sorry, I know some people hate that part.” He threw the stick into the trash. “But your throat looks good.” 

“You’re fine, I’ve always been that way,” Steve croaked out once he recovered. “It happens every time.” 

“I used to be the same when I was younger, so I get it,” Bucky said with a smirk. “Tilt your head up and look at the ceiling.” 

Steve lifted his head, from the corner of his eyes he could see Bucky towering over him. Light touches of Bucky’s fingers moved swiftly over his cheeks, behind his ears then down to his neck. Bucky’s got the hands of an angel, Steve wondered what kind of lotion he used. 

“A little swollen.” Bucky pulled his stethoscope away from his neck, plugging it into his ears. “Lift your shirt up, just going to take a listen.” 

Holy shit, okay, pull yourself together and tone it down, Rogers. A professional doctor, repeat, a professional doctor stood directly in front of him. 

Steve held his shirt up to his collarbone. The flat circular metal part rested against his chest. What a pleasant surprise, Bucky warmed it up beforehand so it wouldn’t be cold.

Bucky had to lean over Steve since he was so short. The sight alone took the wind out of Steve, Bucky’s hair had a nice shimmer, a slight wave on the bottom half. Steve’s short height actually worked in his favor for once. 

“Breathe,” Bucky instructed. 

Oh, right, back to the present. Manually breathing while a doctor listened to his lungs for minutes on end became second nature over the years. Previously, he dreaded it every time. But not right now. Low and behold, Bucky somehow made it enjoyable. 

Maybe too enjoyable but that was himself to blame. 

After minutes of breathing while the metal disc glided across his chest, Bucky backed away. “You can put your shirt back down,” he said, moving behind Steve. “Gonna listen to your back now.” 

Steve dropped the hem of his shirt, letting it naturally fall back into place. The paper covering the table crinkled. _What? Oh!_ Bucky’s weight leaned halfway on the table. 

Bucky pulled his shirt up, the cold air of the room made the hairs on his arms stand up. Like before, the metal disc rested on his back. Knowing what to do, Steve breathed in and out manually, only his breathing filled the silence of the room. 

“Take some deep breaths,” Bucky said behind him, gliding the disc back to a spot he’d just been at a moment ago.

No more than five breaths later, Bucky stood up, like he found what he’d been looking for. “Now I know you haven’t been to a doctor in three months so it came with no surprise to hear some crackles and rattling.”  
  
Bucky wrapped the stethoscope back around his neck. “And you’re using the reliever frequently. My question, how long do you think this has been going on?” he continued. “What I heard doesn’t spring up overnight. So did this start a couple months ago or before then?” 

Steve swallowed a gulp, fear swept up his neck. He fumbled with his shirt sleeve, so much for a compassionate doctor. Now he was going to get it. 

“Uhm, yeah, it's been happening for a while, long before Erskine passed.” Steve, once again, wasn’t able to meet eye contact with Bucky. “But as you mentioned, it’s gotten progressively worse over time.” 

Steve managed to look Bucky in the eyes, might as well be honest. “I’ve dealt with it then and I deal with it now.” 

Here comes the harsh lecture like all those doctors preached to him. 

Bucky made a sound in the back of his throat, like pity. “No, Steve,” he whispered, shaking his head. “This isn’t something you handle. You treat it.” 

“I don’t like how your lungs sound and I’d like to start a treatment plan.” Bucky squeezed his shoulder. “As doctors we’re not supposed to make promises but I assure you, we’ll try to get your asthma under control much as possible.” 

Wait, _what?_

Steve’s mouth parted, emotion washing over like a tidal wave. “No one’s ever said that to me. Not even Dr. Erskine.” 

“Erskine was an extraordinary doctor no doubt but his methods were rather dated,” Bucky said, shifting his weight side to side. “We try our best here at Buchanan. It's what I’ve strived for my whole career.”  
  
Gears turned in Steve’s head. “Wait, that name, you’re the owner?” he blinked, flabbergasted, his eyes lit up in realization. “That’s where Bucky comes from!”  
  
Bucky laughed. Those eye crinkles were adorable. “Yeah, not too many people can put the two and two together.” 

“How’d that come to be?” 

“My twin sister, Becca.” Bucky pointed at the framed photograph on the counter. “She couldn’t pronounce my middle name when we were kids and it just stuck.” 

“Cool name she picked out.” 

“Glad she couldn’t pronounce it, I’ve always hated my first name,” Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “Anyways, just need to examine your abdomen before we discuss the treatment plan.” 

Bucky stood in front of the left side of the table. “Go ahead and lie down, arms against your side.” 

Steve did as he was told. Oh wow, Bucky looked even more gorgeous from above. That dress shirt really brought out the blue in his eyes. 

“May I?” Bucky’s hand hovered above the hem of his shirt. 

Steve smiled, giving Bucky a short nod of approval. Forget speaking at the moment, he’d probably choke on his words the way Bucky moved so swiftly. What a breathtaking sight, he could stare up at Bucky any day. 

“I’ll start off slow and easy, work my way up as I go.” 

Warm fingers pushed lightly against his stomach, shallowly palpating and expertly exploring the area. Those hands were so large against his belly, so magically soft. 

“Feel any tenderness?” Bucky studied Steve’s face, watching for any signs of pain. 

“No,” Steve said, holding back a laugh daring to escape. Bucky’s hands moving to and from on his stomach felt ticklish. 

“Good, gonna apply some more pressure now." 

Bucky’s pushed further into his skin, building up a firm yet steady pressure. It didn't exactly hurt but the force was almost too much, definitely uncomfortable.

_Too uncomfortable._ Breathing became a chore all of a sudden. 

Maybe it had to do with the smoking hot doctor standing above him. Leave it to Bucky for making him breathless. 

Count each exhale in between inhales, he repeated in his head. 

Steve’s shirt was drawn back down. “You can sit back up, nothing wrong with your abdominal area,” Bucky said. “We just need to discuss the treatment plan.” 

Bucky sat on the stool, head lowered as he focused writing in Steve’s file. “I’d also like to go over some tests I want to run.” 

Steve’s head rushed once he sat up, vision blurring for a moment before refocusing. Hell on earth, it snuck up on him like a snake

Steve couldn’t get a complete breath in. Air threw out the window like his lungs weren’t even there. His chest tightened and a hard pain of pressure spread across. He rubbed a hand over his chest, hoping the small act would help. 

Throughout the moment, Bucky still went on to talk about some brand of inhaler he swore worked on chronic asthmatic patients. 

Panic coiled his entire body as he wheezed several times. 

Steve’s erratic breathing caught Bucky’s attention instantaneously. 

Steve pressed the inhaler into his mouth, trying his best to breathe in the medication. Whatever cheap inhaler he had, didn’t work because it had no effect on his lungs. 

“Steve?” Bucky sounded professional yet clearly concerned. “Slow your breathing down, take a deep breath.” 

Bad idea. Steve’s muscles strained as a harsh dry cough wracked his small frame. One came after another, then another, and another. He was full blown into a coughing fit. 

Steve squeezed the inhaler in his hands, trying to latch and focus onto something instead of the simmering panic. Fear coiled deep in his gut, driving him to large gasps between coughs. 

“Take it easy, Steve.” Bucky jumped into action, taking full control of the situation. He pulled up the tables backrest and pushed Steve to rest against it. 

Every short hitch of breath caught in Steve’s throat, springing a multitude of tears out his eyes. His back arched, chest heaving with each stuttering breath. 

Bucky turned to leave the room but Steve managed to snatch the edge of his coat sleeve, keeping a death grip on it. Steve’s eyes were laced with complete and utter panic. 

“Hey, I know, I know it’s scary but try to relax.” Bucky unlatched Steve’s grip, squeezing his hand briefly before parting ways. “Just gotta get some help. Be back in a sec, promise.” 

From the crack of the door, Steve could see Bucky leaning out in the hall.

“Thor! I’ve got an asthmatic patient in here with an ongoing attack.” The man out the hall said something in return. “Yeah, the double albuterol.” They exchanged more medical jargon with each other. “Grab it in case, he might end up needing it.” 

Bucky rushed back inside, leaving the door wide open. He pulled a small machine out the lower cabinet then opened another, revealing tubing and a mask sealed in plastic. 

“We’ll get you a nebulizer treatment started in a moment,” Bucky said, plugging the machine into a wall socket. “Hang in there.” 

“I can’t—” Steve choked out between a loud gasp, his lips felt tingly. “Bre—” His entire body shivered as hands gripped the fabric of his jeans. 

“Don’t talk,” Bucky told him evenly, tearing the tubing out of plastic. “Focus on your breathing.” 

A man with long blonde hair entered with a tray, carrying a vial of liquid medicine, a syringe, and alcohol pads. Thor, read on his embroidered scrub top. That guy was well built too. Were these people health care professionals or models? 

Steve’s fearful thoughts turned to fuzzy confusion. Either everything moved fast or he was slipping further towards unconsciousness. 

Bucky took the vial and squirted it into the nebulizer canister before screwing it shut. “Take his BP and grab the oximeter from the drawer,” he told Thor. 

Bucky threw out orders left and right, jumping into doctor mode. “Breathe this in, Steve.” 

The mask rested over Steve’s nose and mouth, straps tightened to secure a seal. Mist clouded around his face, his breathing fogged up the mask. 

Another coughing fit arose. Coughs shook Steve’s body so hard, he slumped forward, head pulled downward. 

This attack was _bad._ One of the worst attacks all year and it was entirely his fault for not acting upon it sooner. 

“Easy there.” Bucky’s hand laid flat against Steve’s chest, pushing him back down. His bedside manner conveyed gentleness and sincerity. 

Latex snapped against skin as Thor wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Steve’s arm. A plastic clip clamped onto his finger as the cuff inflated. 

“Heartrate’s one twenty one, oxygen saturation at ninety five,” Thor told Bucky. “BP one thirty six over eighty eight.” 

Throughout the noise of the nebulizer, Steve could swear he heard Bucky utter a small curse. 

“I could call them right now—” Thor’s suggestion was interrupted. 

“No, let’s see if this works first. Shouldn’t take but a couple of minutes to kick in.” Bucky lifted Steve’s sleeve up to wipe a wad of cotton over his arm. 

“Sorry Steve, small pinch,” Bucky apologized, pressing the plunger on the syringe. 

Steve scrunched his face at the stinging sensation of the medication going in. ‘ _Small pinch_ ,’ Bucky said. Yeah right. He had a snarky comment at the ready but too bad he was occupied with breathing. 

Throughout the rest of the treatment, Bucky and Thor monitored him closely. His breathing settled down to quiet wheezes, the nonstop coughing finally ceased. Whatever Bucky gave him seemed to work. He felt much better compared to five minutes ago.

Steve’s hands and feet tingled, he felt light headed and shaky all over. One of the most annoying side effects nebulizer drugs come with. At least he could breathe now. 

Steve slipped his eyes shut, sensing a wash of calm now that the worst was over. 

Bucky squeezed his shoulder. “Still with us, Steve?” 

“Mmhm,” Steve hummed, he could finally relax in peace and get a full lungful of air. 

“Color in your face is returning.” Thor pointed out, removing the monitor clip from Steve’s finger. “Barnes, do you still require me? I have a patient to return to.”  
  
Bucky nodded. “Go ahead, I’ve got it from here,” he said. “Thanks, Thor.” 

After the door shut, the nebulizer started sputtering, meaning the medicine drained completely. 

“Gave us one hell of a scare,” Bucky said, removing the mask from Steve’s face. “Almost had to call the hospital.” 

Steve flinched at the mention of the hospital. “Sorry, guess walking from the parking garage caught up to me.” 

_And the immense amount of stunning attractiveness Bucky was radiating._

During those three months, they built a new parking garage. Now the old parking lot was a road, above it was the runway too and from.

Yikes, Bucky’s face clearly wasn’t pleased with his statement. “You walked that far?” he said with displeasure, his mouth parted in horror. “That’s almost half a mile from here.” 

“We’ve got staff to wheel patients in and out, you could’a called,” Bucky added. 

Steve lowered his face, guilty with himself for not thinking better. “My mistake for not thinking it through.” 

“Okay, we’re going to talk about that.” Bucky turned to rummage through an overhead cabinet, making an ‘aha’ sound once he found what he needed. “You know how to use a peak flow meter?” 

“Could do it in my sleep,” Steve said, taking the small device. 

Bucky pursed his lips. “Now you mention it, how's your sleep?” 

Steve put the round end piece between his teeth and wrapped his lips around it. Taking a deep breath, he blew hard as he could. The indicator pointed in the yellow zone. 

“Some nights are worse than others,” Steve said, giving the device to Bucky.

Bucky glanced at the reading, writing the number into Steve’s file. “You’re around three hundred and fifty, not too great.” He met eye contact with Steve. “Could you elaborate on that?” 

“The works,” Steve shrugged. “I’ll wake up in the middle of the night coughing, use my rescue inhaler then sometimes I can get back to sleep.” 

Steve sighed with a frown, lowering his voice to a whisper. “It’s always been that way for me.” 

“Wait, your asthma has never been in control?” Bucky flipped through pages of the chart, he had that displeased look on his face again. “Even with Erskine?” 

“That’s right. Can’t recall a time where I didn’t have issues.” Steve swallowed a lump in his throat before continuing. “But you and I both know it’s gotten worse, I regret waiting so long to do something about it.” 

Bucky sat on the stool with a sad huff, crossing his legs. “Can I be honest with you?” 

Steve made a gesture for Bucky to continue. 

“I think it’s been long overdue to switch your meds up, you’ve been on the same ones for the last five years,” Bucky said while fiddling with a pen. “They might've worked in the past, but as you get older things can change.” 

Bucky pulled a prescription pad out his coat pocket. 

“I’m prescribing you Prednisone for a week, along with three nebulizer treatments a day.” Bucky wrote on the small pad. “I’ll also prescribe that inhaler I talked about earlier and believe me, you’ll love it.” 

“Wow,” Steve gaped, at a loss for words. “That’s a lot.” 

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” Bucky’s eyes wandered over Steve for a second before briefly shaking his head to focus back on the task at hand.

Bucky cleared his throat. “I also want you to come in for regular check ups until we get your asthma under control,” he said. “How does weekly appointments sound?”

Bucky would do all that just for him? How did Steve get lucky enough for this man to fall into his lap? Literal doctor and boyfriend material. 

Steve nodded. “I think I can work around my schedule.” 

“Sorry I’m springing so much onto you at once but,” Bucky paused, writing onto a small post-it note. “You need a re-check in a couple days.” 

“Honestly figured I’d be getting the full workup,” Steve snorted. “And what about all the tests and treatment plan?” 

Bucky smiled at Steve, that wide grin never leaving his face. “Giving you a break after today cause you deserve it. We’ll discuss them next time, ‘kay?” 

All the prescriptions and notes gathered, Bucky stood beside Steve. “Here, give this to Clint and he’ll schedule your appointments.” 

“So I’m free to go?” 

“Yes—” Bucky halted in his tracks, noticing Steve was struggling to slip off the table. “Need some help getting down?” 

Steve blushed. “That would be nice, thanks.” 

Steve’s hands were so small in Bucky’s. It felt right, oddly enough.

Bucky clapped Steve on his back, his hand lingered there. “Matter of fact, I’m having Pietro wheel you out with a wheelchair. We don’t need you to have another attack if we can’t help it.” 

They crossed the room together, Bucky’s hand not leaving Steve’s back until he held the door open. Bucky had a certain look in his eyes that Steve couldn’t exactly read. 

Steve mentally shook his head. No, no, it couldn’t be what he thought. Bucky's just a nice doctor. He was the one with the crush here. Oh, god, he had a crush on his doctor. 

Steve raised a brow, surprised at the kind gesture. Bucky did more for him in half an hour than anyone else had done in his entire life. “That’s not too much trouble for you, doing that last minute without a heads up?” 

“Course not, that’s why I’m here to help you,” Bucky said as Steve passed by. 

“I— I don’t know what to say.” Steve slowed his walk, awestruck eyes focused on Bucky. “No one has ever done so much for me,” he wiped an absent tear from his eye. “Thank you, you might be the best doctor I’ve ever met.” 

“Aw, well, I try my best.” _Now_ Bucky blushed, those dimples were adorable. “But don’t get too carried away. I had blood work planned but I decided to go easy on you.” 

“Letting me slack off, huh?” 

“You could say that.” Bucky waved at a redhead with long hair as she passed by back in reception. 

Bucky reached into a supply closet off to the side, throwing a small box to Steve. “Don’t ever run out of rescue inhalers.” 

“No, no I shouldn’t,” Steve said, handing the note to Clint. “Well, nice to meet you Bucky.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Steve.” Bucky picked up a stack of charts off the counter, heading back out down the hall. “I’ll see you in two days, take care.” 

Steve decided his weekly appointments should be on Fridays around eight in the morning since Fridays were his day off. They scheduled the follow up visit around the same time. 

He was screwed. Weekly visits with his doctor? His crush would increase with every visit.

But getting to see Bucky more excited him. A lot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm obsessed with visuals and I made this manip of Bucky. I'm really proud of how it turned out. We can all thank Doctor Mike for this because that's what I used to base it on lol.  
> 
> 
> My Tumblr(s)! Metalbvcky and my main is Princesscas


	2. Pink Scrubs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get into more medical related stuff this chapter (this is a doc/patient au after all :) ) because Bucky's gotta get Steve's asthma under control. But next week they'll talk and hang out more :D 
> 
> Medical warnings are at the end notes. And once again, I am no medical professional and I could be exaggerating some parts :P

Pietro, another receptionist, had met up with Steve and wheeled him back to the parking garage. It was appreciated, not having to walk the long trek again. Pietro told Steve he would meet up and wheel him to and from for every appointment. Were the staff at Buchanan Medical models _and_ angels? They certainly looked and acted like it. On the way to the garage, their conversation shifted and turned out, Wanda was Pietro's twin. Bucky and Pietro are a twin. Were there any more twins Steve was going to meet? 

Steve smelled fresh bacon the second he entered the apartment. God, he was starving. He worked up an appetite after everything that went down at the clinic. 

Sam waved at Steve, nodding over toward the stove where extra bacon and eggs were sitting out. He pushed an envelope away from Steve like he was trying to hide it. 

“How’d it go?” Sam asked, shoveling a fork full of eggs into his mouth. “They weren’t too hard on you, were they?” 

“No, it went surprisingly well,” Steve said, grabbing a plate for himself. “You wouldn’t believe it, honestly.”  
  
Sam shifted in his seat and craned his head. “Really? Go on.” 

Steve sat next to Sam. “Everyone was so nice, even the receptionists.” He tore off a piece of bacon. “But the doctor was,” he paused, thinking of Bucky’s beautiful face. “He was something else.” 

“How so?” 

Steve held back a snort. Just had an asthma attack during his first visit with the doctor he immediately crushed on. Maybe it was too soon to tell Sam about his crush. It was only the first appointment after all. A mere crush, Steve probably wasn’t the first nor would he be the last. Who knew how many people found Bucky attractive. 

“He listened to me.” Bucky did a whole lot more than just listen but it was a start. “Every word I said was taken into consideration. He wants to help me, for real.” 

Sam knew his past struggles with doctors. Back when they became friends in college, it had been the first thing Steve told Sam. 

“Way to go Steve! It's about time you found another good doctor.” Sam patted his back. 

“But I go back on Thursday for a re-check up,” Steve said between a bite.

“So soon?” Sam looked at Steve, abandoning his food. “Why?” 

_Almost ended up in the hospital because my doctor literally took my breath away and I may have walked half a mile to get to his practice, he thought._

“I uh, had an asthma attack while I was there.” Steve fidgeted with his fork. “He also wants to see me every week, try and get my asthma under control.” 

“Jesus, Steve, you can’t catch a break, can you?” Sam said, a solemn look on his face. “But wow that’s great, think this doctor will be a good fit for you?”

Oh, Bucky would definitely be good for him. 

Steve sipped from a water glass, now noticing the large envelope off the side. “I think so, I have a feeling he will.” 

“You deserve it after all the hell you’ve been through in the past.” 

Steve couldn’t help himself but ask. “Mail came early?”   
  
“Oh, it did,” Sam handed Steve the envelope. “Think I know what it is, given the return address. You're gonna love it.”  
  
Steve’s eyes bulged out the second he opened it. “Peggy’s coming here for her book tour!” 

He owed everything to Peggy for inspiring him to push for improvement. She once was an independent comic artist, publishing a series of webcomics. Ten years later, she found herself as a New York Times bestseller. 

“Knew you’d be ecstatic.” 

“Am I!” Steve swiveled his chair to face Sam, eyes never tearing from the flyer. “She’s never come to Brooklyn before! I’ve always wanted to meet her because you know how much her books mean to—” 

_Tickets go on sale Friday at nine am_. 

“What?” Sam searched Steve’s face, not able to figure out why his excitement evaporated so quickly. 

Steve slouched, pouting as he sat the flyer back on the counter. “The first weekly appointment is when tickets go on sale.” 

“Isn’t that why you’ve got me here?” Sam pulled his phone from his pocket and waved it in the air. “I’ll get you the tickets.” 

“Are you serious?” Steve’s face pulled into a wide grin. “You’re the best, Sam!” 

“Course, I’m your wingman, remember?” 

Did everything align and fall into Steve’s lap? He had a great doctor, an amazing friend and now he might get the chance to meet his favorite author. 

Asthma aside, things were starting to pick up in Steve's life. 

That evening, Sam insisted to get Steve’s medicine for him. An hour later, Steve had the new inhaler, medicine for his nebulizer, and the pills he had to take for seven days. 

Bucky didn't exaggerate about the new inhaler. By the first day, Steve felt much better than before. Not completely, but a vast improvement. 

Taking three breathing treatments a day was a little inconvenient but at least he could sketch during them. Steve decided he needed to practice perspective so he drew Bucky’s office by memory. The thought of drawing Bucky crossed his mind but held himself back. 

* * *

It felt so odd waking up excited to go to the doctors. What a turn of events. Steve went from ‘I hate the doctors’ to ‘I love the doctors.’ A single visit with Bucky and bam, his sentiment changed instantly.  
  
Pietro pushed the wheelchair slowly down the enclosed walkway. “Doing alright today, Mr. Rogers? 

“Not too bad, thanks,” Steve said, looking out into the busy street down below. “But Pietro, please for the last time, call me Steve.” 

“I know, I just like saying it,” Pietro laughed, stopping to push a button for the doors to open. “You don’t often see people with that last name.” 

Pietro just had to say it. “Would you be my neighbor?” 

Steve had to give Pietro some credit, he did find it funny. They shared a good laugh before parting ways. 

Steve signed himself in, making small talk with Clint on the way. A couple minutes later his name was called, by Thor this time around. 

Thor’s loud voice boomed the hallway. “Steve! I do hope you’ve been well since Tuesday. Been getting plenty of rest I hope?” 

“I sure have.” 

Thor took Steve’s vitals. The usual blood pressure, weight, and temperature. Afterward, Thor led him to the same exam room as before. 

“Well, I believe this is it,” Thor smiled, sliding the chart into the doors attached placeholder. “Dr. Barnes will be with you momentarily.” 

Steve took sight of the room. A step stool pushed against the exam table. That wasn't there previously. Did Bucky do that? Had Bucky thought of Steve? Steve appreciated it, being able to climb up without any struggle. 

Waiting wasn’t nearly as nerve wrecking as last time. However, butterflies fluttered around in his stomach. What would Bucky wear today? Did he ever wear scrubs? Steve wondered what he’d look like without the lab coat. 

Steve pulled himself out of his thoughts when he heard a knock against the door. 

Bucky had his hair pulled into a messy bun with a claw clip, loose strands framed his face. He wore the same lab coat over a floral dress shirt with matching gray pants. 

“Mornin’,” Bucky said with an adorable smile, corners of his eyes crinkled. Shutting the door, he halted in his tracks, blue eyes met Steve’s. “Oh, you look much better than you did.” 

Steve blinked in surprise, did he really look awful then? “I do?” 

“Absolutely, I can tell you’ve been using that new inhaler.” Bucky clicked a pen open, writing into Steve’s file. “Just have one test for today.” 

“Lemme guess, it has something to do with blood and needles?”

“No, I’m letting you slide again ‘till next week.” Bucky huffed a laugh. “We’ll be checking your lungs, see how well they’re functioning.” 

Steve heaved a sigh of relief. “Lung function test? Better known as blow out the candles?”  
  
“That’s the one,” Bucky said, removing his stethoscope. “Mind if I take a listen?” 

“No better way to find out.” Steve unbuttoned his wool cardigan, that shouldn’t feel intimate but for some reason it did. 

Before Steve could do it himself, Bucky held his shirt up _for him._ Bucky hummed to himself as he listened, face contorting and brows furring in concentration. 

For his back, Bucky didn't sit behind Steve this time around but instead, practically leaned over him. Steve would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he totally flipped out at that moment. 

“Deep breath, steady as you can,” Bucky murmured a quiet whisper, eyes closed. 

Steve inhaled slowly. A minute passed and Bucky pulled away. 

“Still got some rattling but that’s to be expected,” Bucky said, replacing the stethoscope on his neck. "Definite improvement though." 

Steve’s gaze fixated on Bucky. He had no problem meeting his eyes today. Or any time for that matter. “I’ve been doing three breathing treatments a day like you said. And the inhaler's pretty nice.” 

Bucky sat on the stool. “Good, told you you’d love it.” 

“So the treatment plan, what’s it about?” 

“That.” Bucky pulled a pamphlet from the chart, rolling closer to the examination table. “Is all in here, take a look.” 

Steve flipped through the pamphlet, his mouth parted in amazement by the massive amount of information. Pages upon pages had guides and tips about dealing with adult onset asthma. 

_How to use an inhaler, spacer, and nebulizer. How to know the signs of an oncoming attack. How to handle anxiety during an attack. Why carrying an inhaler at all times is lifesaving. Managing chronic asthma. Nocturnal asthma and how to get a good night's sleep._

One particular page had a section of its own, highlighted in yellow. 

_Six tips to prevent nighttime asthma attacks._

_Clean your bedroom regularly. Surface areas like bookshelves, nightstands, curtains, rugs, and picture frames are susceptible to dust mites. Monthly vacuuming behind all furniture is highly encouraged. A vacuum with a HEPA filter works best._

_Wash all bedding in hot water weekly. Comforters, blankets, dust ruffles, sheets, and pillowcases all should be washed in at least one hundred and thirty degrees Fahrenheit. All bedding should be dried in a hot dryer._

_Invest in dust proof mattress and pillowcase covers. Zippered covers are designed to keep dust mites out of bedding._

_Invest in a humidifier. Cold air is drier and more bothersome for people with severe asthma. Some people may benefit from a humidifier as it adds moisture to the air in your bedroom. Dust mites thrive in low humidity and boosting the humidity in your room can keep them at bay. Breathing colder air at night or sleeping in an air conditioned bedroom may also cause loss of heat from the airways._

_Don’t sleep with pets. If you have pets, keep them out of the bedroom so their dander doesn’t collect or stick to carpeting, bedding or curtains. You may also need to keep your bedroom door shut to keep your pet and their dander out._

_Keep your head elevated when sleeping. If you have a cold or another illness, lying flat can exacerbate postnasal drip, which can trigger an asthma attack._

“Bucky, I—” Steve stammered, at a loss for words, “I don’t know what to say.” 

Bucky waved a hand in the air with a small smile, like it was no problem. “Point you in the right direction and we might turn this ship around.” 

Steve closed the pamphlet. “I’ve only known you for two days and you’re already miles better than any other doctor I once knew.” 

“Just doing the job that I love,” Bucky said with a wide toothed grin, he had pretty straight teeth. “You deserve it. No one should go through what you’ve been through.” 

_Crush increased by three hundred percent_. 

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Steve felt so emotional by that statement, he could drop down onto the floor and start crying. 

“You’re welcome, Steve. Now let’s talk about getting your asthma under control,” Bucky said. “As I said last time, I want to switch your daily medication.”  
  
Bucky went over medication brands, the difference between certain steroids and inhalers, what medicine worked for him in the past, etcetera. Soon enough, they had a new prescription for Steve’s new daily meds. 

Bucky held the door open. “Ready to blow out some candles?” 

“As I’ll ever be.”

Steve couldn’t believe Bucky wanted to join him for a boring lung function test. Other doctors would send him on his way without a care in sight. Does Bucky do that for all his patients or was Steve a special case? But no need questioning it. In Steve’s opinion, the more time with Bucky the better. 

Wanda sat at a desk in front of a computer, a mouthpiece connected to it. “Good to see you again, Steve.” 

Bucky leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “You’ve got this.” 

Steve sat next to Wanda, she handed him the mouthpiece and a clip for his nose. “Not so sure about that, but thanks.” 

“Deep breath in then blow out hard as you can,” Wanda said, clicking something on the computer. 

Last time Steve had a lung function test done, he’d been a teenager, not an adult with out of control asthma. Exhaling with force after holding a deep breath sucked, period. Between breaths he noticed the familiar signs of his chest tightening. 

They had to repeat the process three more times to get an accurate reading. Not much of an easy walk in the park as he thought it would be. 

Steve turned into a shaky, wheezing mess by the end. So occupied with breathing, he didn’t notice Bucky stepping out the room only to return with an inhaler. 

“Relax.” Bucky’s arm draped over Steve’s shoulders, rubbing his thumbs over his upper back. “Focus on one breath at a time.” 

Steve shook the inhaler, sucking in a deep breath before pressing the canister. Thankfully he didn’t go into a full blown attack. He really didn’t want a re-peat like last time. 

“Better?” Bucky’s fingers felt nice against Steve's back, so comforting.  
  
Steve tipped his head up, blushing with a bashful smile. “Much, thanks for that.” 

Bucky turned away to discuss the test results with Wanda. When they concluded their conversation, Wanda excused herself out. 

Bucky pulled a chair over to face Steve, he sat backwards with his arms folded at the top. “Steve,” he started, voice and face bordering absolute seriousness. “Your results were fifty eight percent, normal’s above eighty.” 

Steve internally cringed at the number. He’d never gotten a score that low. 

“Because of that, I think it's best to get a chest x-ray done,” Bucky said. “Make sure nothing else is going on.”

Steve groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Back to the drawing board like the olden days, I guess.” 

What a lovestruck fool he’d been, getting distracted by his crush when the reality sat on his doorstep. Weak, frail, fragile, always needing assistance to breathe. He couldn't do the one thing most humans could. Breathing sucked. 

“Hey, no.” Bucky took Steve’s hand and squeezed gently. “It’s a good thing you came to see me. We’ll fix it, together.” 

Whoa, something fluttered in his chest by the small act. Definitely not asthma. His feelings would be the end of him. 

Steve gave a light squeeze back. “You really mean that?” 

“By all means.”

“Felt like I’ve repeated it a thousand times but thank you,” Steve said. “Honestly never seen anyone so dedicated to their job like you are.” 

“Well, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do and I love it.” Bucky withdrew his hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?” 

Steve immediately perked up at the opportunity to discuss his passion. “It’s not much but I create cover art for a small comic company. Plus I do commissions whenever I get them.” 

Bucky’s mouth parted in awe, eyebrows raised high. “Wow, you can draw huh?” 

“Been doing it my whole life. One day I hope to publish my own comics.”  
  
“Impressive,” Bucky said with a smile. “Love to see some of your work one day.” 

“Here.” Steve pulled out his phone, swiping through it. “Finished this a couple days ago.” 

Bucky's mouth parted, he gasped. “Whoa. This is incredible.” 

A watercolor painting of a man with short hair and glowing eyes, wielding a hammer and shield as lighting encased him. 

Steve took his phone back. “That's a character from my own series I've been working on in the past two or so years.” 

“You’re really good at it. I’m sure you’ll get published at some point.”  
  
Steve’s cheeks reddened at the compliment. “Hope so, thanks Bucky.” 

They conversed more about Steve’s art before walking back to reception. Bucky joined Clint in the back to discuss appointment times. Steve chose the middle of the following week for his chest x-ray. It would be done at the hospital and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Hospitals were nothing but bad memories for him. 

Bucky shook Steve’s hand before they parted ways. Deep in his heart, he suspected Bucky held on too long for it to be professional. But his brain said otherwise, it was only his rabid crush. 

Crush, he reminded himself. Only a crush, a simple ordinary crush. Everyone gets them at some point. 

* * *

When Friday rolled around Steve reminded Sam to get tickets for Peggy’s book tour. Sam told him he’d take care of it, he had the confidence of snatching one up. Tickets always sold out within minutes and to say the least, Steve suspected his chance was slim to none despite Sam’s pep talk. 

Steve realized he’d get to see Bucky every single week from now on. It hadn’t hit him until walking out the door. He’d met Bucky only two times so far yet he already fell for the guy, practically heads over heels. The concept of love at first sight seemed silly to Steve but he might consider it in this case. 

After Pietro dropped him off, he signed himself in and made small talk with Clint. Wanda took him back, she skipped the room for vitals check. When Steve asked her about it, she told him Bucky would take care of it. 

_Bucky wanted to check Steve’s vitals himself?_

His heart quickened at that thought. Either it was his crush or the unfamiliarity of having a doctor who cared deeply about their patients. Probably both, but his crush raged on. 

The exam tables backrest sat in an upright position with the armrests lowered. Why the sudden change? 

Steve got his answer soon as Bucky walked in with a metal tray full of blood work supplies. He completely forgot about it thanks to his morning excitement. 

Hairs on his arm stood up, he wasn’t too fond of needles. Having small veins made the process a lot worse. 

Throughout his concern, he missed one important detail. 

Bucky wore pink scrubs, exposing his large, muscled biceps and a tiny portion of his upper chest. Hair pulled into a bun, loose strands contained with a red clip off the side. 

Steve’s cheeks threatened to blush at the sight. Bucky soft lips stretched into a smile. “Well good mornin’, Steve.” 

“Scrub day?” Steve blurted out, somehow managing a complete sentence without stuttering. 

“Not exactly.” Bucky snorted with a glance at his clothes. “Patient puked on me during morning rounds.” 

“Oh, I see,” Steve chuckled, eyes not lifting from Bucky’s arms. No shame in appreciating them, it probably took him years to build such strong muscle. 

Bucky took a blood pressure machine out an overhead cabinet. “How’ve you been?” 

_Amazing ever since you came into my life and I haven’t even known you for more than half a week, he thought._

“Good but I’ve been a little tired lately,” Steve said. “Managed to complete a couple commissions I had. Plus my favorite author is coming here on her book signing, so that makes up for it.” 

“Those meds can make you feel tired indirectly.” Bucky touched a thermometer to Steve’s forehead. “But can you get through most nights without interruption?” 

“Mostly, though I nap in the evenings for an hour or two.” 

“It’ll take some time for your body to adjust. If you notice anything out of the ordinary, let me know.” Bucky hummed with a slight nod. “Curious, who’s the author?” 

Bucky turned his back to Steve, writing in the chart. Steve couldn’t help the slight grin forming on his face. Those tight scrub bottoms hugged his backside in every right way. One hell of a sight. 

Right, right. Back to the present. No more drooling over Bucky in his glory. They're in a professional setting, Steve reminded himself once more. 

“Peggy Carter.” While he started talking about his favorite idol, the image of Bucky's backside was now permanently burned in his brain. “Tickets go on sale today and my best friend and roommate Sam promised to grab one for me.”

Bucky wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Steve’s upper arm. “Oh yeah! I’m familiar with her, my sister won’t shut up about them whenever we talk.” 

The cuff inflated, machine making a humming sound. “She’s right though. Peggy’s agent series is unbelievably good.” 

“So I’ve heard,” Bucky snickered with a grin, it vanished a second later. “Blood pressures elevated slightly, you feeling okay?” he asked, patting Steve’s arm.

Steve glimpsed at the metal tray. “Just um, not too fond of getting stuck with a needle.” 

Lusting over Bucky one moment then frightened by the present medical equipment the next. Like whiplash. 

Bucky turned to block Steve’s view from the offending object. “Tell you what. I’ll be quick as can be. You won’t even know it's happening.” 

Bucky put his stethoscope on, holding the circular disc up to show Steve. It happened so fast, Steve couldn't process the movement. Bucky's rested a firm hand on Steve's shoulder as he held his shirt up. The warm metal disc slipped over his skin. 

“Deep breath in,” followed with, “deep breath out.” 

Bucky whispered a series of ‘goods’ under his breath as Steve inhaled and exhaled. Those words were short and sweet yet they somehow touched every little nerve in Steve.

“About the same as last week but you’ll get there,” Bucky threw his stethoscope back around his neck. “How many times did you use your reliever this week?” 

“Three.” Steve drew out a long breath. “Two had I not gone out in the cold for the mail.” 

“No, no, don't don’t put that guilt on yourself." If Bucky whined, that sounded close to it. "Use it whenever you think you need it.” 

“Let’s get this over with, huh?” Bucky snapped a couple of gloves on, sitting on the stool and wheeling over to face Steve. “Got a preferred arm?” 

Steve trailed his focus from Bucky then to the tray then back at Bucky. 

“Uhm. Neither?” Steve cleared his throat, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. “Never had any good veins. Always been cursed with small ones.” 

“Well alright, I like a bit of a challenge.” Bucky grinned. “Hold out your arms and make a fist.” 

Steve felt hot all of sudden, the room's temperature turned up ten degrees. Eyes closed, he huffed a shaky breath. He stretched his arms out against the armrests, both hands fisted. 

“Always took nurses several minutes to find one.” Steve’s bottom lip trembled. 

“Bet I can find one in no time,” Bucky looked at Steve sincerely, patting his knee. “Remember to breathe.” 

Elastic tied around his upper arm, above the crook of his elbow. Blue veins puffed up under his skin. 

Bucky softly hummed to himself as he studied Steve’s arm. Turning them to and from, pressing a gloved finger against soft skin. “Mmm, no. Let’s try the other.” 

Bucky released the elastic and rolled over to Steve’s right side, tieing it again. Less than forty five seconds, he found a vein. He held Steve’s forearm, swiping over the area with a wad of cold cotton. 

"M'kay, quick little pinch." 

Steve knew it was a no go the moment Bucky latched onto his not to be prize. Bucky withdrew the needle with an apology. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you had small veins.” Bucky placed a bandage over the abused area. “Can I see the back of your hand?” 

Shit. Exactly what Steve dreaded. 

“Not gonna lie, I hate this,” Steve breathed out. 

Bucky tied the elastic around Steve’s lower right forearm. “Sorry, I know it's not fun.” Without a moment too soon, Bucky found his second prize. “Bingo, there she is.” 

Bucky opened a drawer, pulling out a tube. “Some numbing gel, so you won’t feel the sting.” 

Steve huffed a sigh in relief. “What’d I do without you.” 

“No need to suffer pain when it could be helped,” Bucky quirked a smile. 

They waited a couple minutes for the cream to take effect. Once it was time, Bucky swiped over the area with another piece of cotton. 

Steve squeaked a sharp gasp in surprise, the numbing cream worked but he still vaguely felt the sensation of the needle piercing his skin. He brought his unoccupied fist to his mouth, whining a raspy breath. Tears pooled the corner of his eyes, some slipped down his cheeks when he squeezed them shut. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Bucky cradled Steve’s hand in his own, brushing an index finger over his palm. “Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” 

Steve never heard someone so comforting. Bucky had one hell of a bedside manner. That tone was so warm, Bucky should've considered pursuing nursing.

Yet, following Bucky’s instructions did no good. Every limb went numb and his heart hammered away. Like a switch in his body turned off. Black spots clouded his vision. Blinking them away didn’t help. He slumped down, head tilted to the side. 

He was going to pass out. He knew it. 

“Buck—” he mumbled, barely able to hear himself or what Bucky said around him. 

Bucky abandoned his work and came to stand over Steve. “Steve, hey, look at me, look at me,” he repeated. “Right here pal, look up here.” 

He couldn't look at Bucky because he was _going to pass out._

Whatever state of being he entered, resembled blacking out. He heard Bucky’s voice through his ringing ears but everything looked of total darkness. 

The backrest lowered so he lay flat against it, an extension pulled out for his feet. A plush material shoved under his lower legs. Pressure tightened his upper arm. 

“Steve." Bucky's voice became louder, almost as if he was talking directly into Steve's ear. "Come on pal, wake up.” 

Knuckles pushed against his sternum, rubbing back and forth hard. Steve gasped at the intrusion. 

Bucky gently tapped Steve's cheek. “Hear me?” 

“Diz—dizzy,” Steve slurred as tremors ran down his spine.

“You with me, pal?” 

Steve licked his lips before cracking his eyes open to look around. “Mmmhm.” 

Bucky sprawled his hand over Steve’s pounding chest, directly on his heart. “Okay, you’re coming down from it,” he said, looking at the blood pressure screen. 

“I wha’?” Steve’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

“Sorry, I should’ve noticed the signs sooner. You just experienced a reaction known as a vasovagal response.” 

Steve slowed his breaths down, remembering the breathing exercises Bucky told him about. “I feel...” he licked his lips again. “Tired.” 

“I bet, it’ll do that to you.” Bucky took hold of Steve’s right hand. “Gotta take the needle out but I promise it won’t feel bad as going in.” 

Steve winced slightly. A soft bandage replaced the needle. Without thinking, Steve tried sitting up but Bucky pushed him back down with a firm hand. 

Bucky tisked, ruffling Steve’s hair. “Stay down for a couple more minutes, punk.” 

Right, too soon. Bucky had a point. But _punk?_ Where did that come from? Though Steve wasn’t about to question it. He kinda liked those pet names. Pal, Punk, what else would Bucky call him next? 

Steve relaxed further into the table's cool padding. Too bad there wasn’t a headrest, because he could go for a pillow right about now. Wait— 

“Bring the pillow up here?”

Bucky lifted his head up to slide the pillow underneath. Steve mumbled a short ‘thanks’ and got a hum in response. Fatigue settled into his bones while Bucky disposed of the medical supplies. 

The sharp click of the door made Steve jerk on instinct. He hadn’t realized he dozed off. 

A straw pressed between his lips. Naturally, he sucked a large gulp. The cool liquid with a taste of plums slid down his throat. Bucky had plum juice boxes? Who carried juice boxes around a doctor’s office let alone _plum flavored._

He coughed between a sip. 

Bucky held the straw away momentarily. “Small sips. Not like it's going anywhere.” 

“Sorry, ‘s actually good,” Steve said. 

“About time someone else appreciated plums, I love them.” Bucky’s eyes fell to Steve’s lips for a slither of a second as he drank.

They sat there in complete silence, only a dull hum of the heating unit, and Steve’s sips filled the room. Bucky pulled the stool to the side so he’d meet Steve at eye level. 

Steve wouldn’t dare to take his gaze off Bucky for the world. Sunlight shone between the open blinds, casting a perfect glow on Bucky’s face and a glimmer in his eyes. 

“Didn’t know you were a fainter.” 

“Neither did I, all those years, and I’ve never passed out before.” 

“No?” Bucky threw the empty juice box in the trash. “I’ll join you then cause that’s a first for me too.” 

Steve snickered, unable to fathom the thought of a doctor avoiding such a common occurrence. “We’ve been lucky up until this point.” 

“Guess so. Oh, and now,” Bucky said, reaching for a laptop off the counter. “Let’s talk about your x-rays.” 

Steve propped up on both elbows to view the screen. “Nothing too bad I hope?”

“Well, it’s what I expected.” Bucky pointed on the screen with a pen. “The lining of your bronchial tubes are inflamed,” he said. “In layman's terms, you’ve got allergic bronchitis.” 

“I’m sick?” Steve nearly yelled as he interrupted Bucky’s diagnosis. 

“Not exactly. You’re not contagious since it’s being caused by an allergen.”  
  
“How do you treat it?”  
  
Bucky closed the laptop. “We treat the symptoms. I’ll increase the dosage of your inhaler and oral medication.” 

Steve threw his head back on the pillow. “Great, more meds.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m sorry pal,” Bucky apologized with a sympathetic frown. “Next week we’ll do a skin prick test. Your file says you haven’t had one in a few years.”

Steve covered his face with the pillow. “Ugh, I hate those!” he said, voice muffled. 

“Gotta be done,” Bucky said. “Find out what you’re allergic to then try and eliminate it much as possible.” 

“Trust me, I am not a happy camper during the testing,” Steve sighed, putting the pillow back under his head. “But, have I ever told you how great of a doctor you are?” 

Steve would probably go to the end of the earth for Bucky if he was honest with himself. Bucky, not only a great doctor but a kind, genuine person. Not to mention his extraordinary body of a model. 

“Dunno. Feel like I’ve heard it from someone, but I can’t put my finger on it,” Sarcasm edged Bucky's voice and he winked with a smirk. 

What the hell was that? Whatever it was, it made Steve swoon so hard he could pass out again and not give a damn. 

They were doing it again. The thing with the eye staring contest, neither dropping their gaze from one another. Steve’s heart might explode out his chest the way it fluttered. 

Occupy with something less crush related, his brain told him. “What’s with all the cat photos?” Steve gestured to the framed photos on the wall. 

Bucky turned around to point at a photo of a white cat in a cardboard box. “Oh her? That’s Alpine, my menace of a cat.” 

Interestingly, Bucky liked plums and had a cat. Steve wondered what else Bucky had in his life. He wanted to get to know him, see what else he did in his spare time. It saddened Steve by just how little he knew.

“Aw come on, she can’t be that bad,” Steve laughed at a photo of Alpine holding a toy in her mouth. “She’s cute!” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Cute vicious beast who begs for attention but soon as you give in, she latches onto your arm and won’t let go,” he continued, “then she kicks her hind feet, repeatedly.” 

Steve grimaced at the mental picture. “Jeez, a cute beast then.” 

“She plays rough.” Bucky ran an absent hand over his left arm. “Ever tried living with a vicious cat in a one bedroom apartment?” he scoffed. “Have to lock her in my spare room cause she thinks guests are prey.” 

“Sounds like she’s a handful alright.” 

Bucky lived in a one bedroom apartment? Steve never gave it any thought, but could that mean Bucky’s single? The temptation to ask crept his mind but that would be overstepping by a longshot. 

Bucky looked at the clock, his face shifted from content to horror. “Oh!” He stood, rolling the chair back where it normally sat. “My next appointment is in eight minutes.” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you with my dizzy spell.” 

“Don’t worry about it, you’re fine,” Bucky said, picking up the chart before making his way to the door. “Come on, I’ll walk you out. Need something upfront anyway.” 

Down the hall and just a few feet from the reception window, Bucky pulled Steve aside. 

“C’mere.” 

Bucky wrapped both arms around Steve’s shoulders and pulled him close. Gentle circles rubbed his back. Stunned by the gesture, yet Steve sunk into the warmth. Every muscle in his body lost its tension in that moment. The protectiveness sank deep in his gut, he felt content, happy. His heart fluttered at the feeling of his body pressing against Bucky. By far one of the best hugs he ever had, stronger than anything he ever knew. 

Their height difference allowed Steve to slot his head under Bucky’s chin like their bodies were made for each other. And Bucky smelled _amazing_ , of a tropical body wash he would shower with in the morning. 

“I’ll see you next week. ‘Kay?” Bucky said, pulling away. “Don’t stress too much on the allergy test, you’ll pull through it.”

There it was again, Bucky squeezing his left shoulder for what it felt like the dozenth time. Steve’s feelings buzzed like a bee’s nest. His crush would be the death of him. 

“Can’t promise you that but I’ll try.” 

Something about today’s appointment seemed different than the last two. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Differentiating this visit to past visits with other doctors was next to impossible. Bucky did almost everything differently. There wasn’t a reasonable comparison.

Whatever it may be, Steve enjoyed the hell out of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Needles & Passing Out  
> ~  
> I mention Bucky's cat, Alpine being a vicious beast and that's inspired by my own cat, Anna :P Literally to the letter of what I wrote, that's what Anna does. She's small and adorable. But she thinks forearms are chew toys. My other cat, Charlie, is the polar opposite. Loves belly rubs and never bites or scratches anyone.


	3. Crush, crush, crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! This chapter is three days early :D Since it didn't need much editing like the last, I decided to treat you guys because I couldn't wait till Friday! I love, love, looove this chapter a lot. 
> 
> We technically only have two chapters to go since I like to think the sixth as an epilogue.  
> \--  
> I'm halfway thinking of starting a new fic, a National Treasure AU since that's my favorite movie. I can't get the thought of Steve stealing the declaration out of my head haha. I'll probably start planning that soon. I've never done a movie AU and I'm rather intriqued by the idea of it.

Steve smirked from ear to ear. Bar far the greatest doctor’s appointments he ever had. And that included him fainting. It wasn’t until Steve got home and closed the door, realizing what the present would soon lay before him. 

Tickets to Peggy's book tour. 

Steve couldn’t suppress his wide toothed grin at the thought. “I’m home!” he announced in the empty living room. Sam was nowhere to be seen, not in the kitchen or the breakfast bar. Peering the corner toward the hallway, Steve called out, “Sam?”

A moment later, Sam emerged from his bedroom. “Hey,” he grunted, lips pressed into a frown. 

“What happened?” Steve hesitated in the middle of the room, not moving a muscle. 

Sam sighed and flopped on the couch, throwing his phone beside him. “Just got off the phone with the ticket company.” 

Steve’s voice wavered. “And?”  
  
“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Sam apologized with a frown. “Swear to you, I had them in my cart, even checked out and everything.” 

God no, that couldn’t be happening. The shock blew right in his face. 

“You’ve got to be joking.” Steve threw himself over to fall face first into the couch. 

“The damn company claimed it was a ‘technical error’ and ‘nothing could be done.’” Sam slapped his knee in frustration. “I have screenshots of proof and they still don’t believe it!” 

“Call again.” 

“I’ve tried, been on the phone for nearly an hour and they repeat the same load of bullshit.”

Peggy’s coming to Brooklyn for once and he doesn’t have a ticket. Great. Just, great. 

Steve stared at the popcorn ceiling. “Damn it. Should’ve known better than to get my hopes up.” 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get my mind off of this, how’d it go at the doctor’s?” 

A smile blossoming on Steve’s face at the thought of Bucky. “Good, amazing in fact.” Second, he blurted it, he wanted to retract his statement. “But it sort of wasn’t.” 

Sam sat up straighter, intrigued now he didn’t have to listen to a representative telling him the same thing over and over. “What does that mean?” 

“I fainted when I got blood drawn.” 

“You what?” Sam exclaimed with a shout. “All these years, you’ve bragged about your clean streak of never passing out.” 

“Yeah well, guess it was bound to happen eventually,” Steve shrugged, not feeling bad about it because of the way Bucky handled it. Looking back, he was quite comforting. Steve didn't feel any lingering embarrassment at all. 

“As I said before, you really sure Dr. Barnes is a good fit for you?” 

“Yes, Buc—” He paused, wondering if he should address Bucky by his nickname in front of Sam. Might as well go for it. “Actually he goes by Bucky.” 

“The hells kinda name is ‘Bucky’?” Sam made quotes in the air with each hand as he spoke.

“You know, the name of the practice?”  
  
Sam wore a blank stare. 

“Buchanan?” 

Sam quirked a single eyebrow. 

“Buchanan. Meaning Bucky.” 

Silence lingered for a couple of seconds.

Sam burst into a fit of laughter. “That’s the second dumbest fucking thing I’ve heard today.” 

Sam scoffed in a playful tone. “He’s a good doctor, Sam.”  
  
“Uh-huh, so what’d you find out?” 

“Something about my bronchial tubes being inflamed,” Steve said. “Allergy testing is the next step.” 

Sam made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. “Ooh, sorry, those suck.” 

“I’m not looking forward to it.” Steve sighed, the reality of the present seeping his mind. “So no tickets huh?”

“Feel like I let you down, those books mean so much to you.” 

“Don’t go blaming yourself, it’s not your fault. Maybe there will be a next time, like next year or the one after that.” 

“Doesn’t make it right” Sam stood from the couch. “Gotta head into work, stay safe, you hear?”

“Always try to, I’ll probably take it easy for the rest of the day.” 

“Good, see you around.” 

Great, of all things to go south in his life. His asthma’s kicking his ass and now he won’t be able to meet his favorite author. Too curious, Steve checked the official Twitter account for Peggy's book series. Every ticket sold out within minutes, like usual. Wonderful. 

To get his mind off things, he worked on his current commissions. After an hour he took a break. That break turned out with a bunch of doodles in a new sketchbook. Before he knew exactly what he was drawing, the doodles turned to rough portraits of Bucky. 

He drew Bucky’s plump lips, his muscular arms, and his gorgeous long hair. Soon enough, four pages were filled with just _Bucky._

Steve’s mind wandered. What would it be like to kiss Bucky? To run his hands down Bucky's pecs, to feel his firm chest. What Steve would give to comb his fingers through those brown waves. 

He could swear his crush grew stronger and stronger as the days passed by. Like it started as a seed and grew into a sunflower. 

Middle of the week, the idea to ask Bucky out crossed his mind. Until he remembered Bucky was his doctor. He shook that thought away. Even though they're in a doctor-patient relationship, Bucky probably doesn’t feel the same. No way a trained medical professional would have feelings for a patient. 

Steve was just a small guy with asthma who found himself screwed because he had the world’s biggest crush on- wait for it- _his own doctor._ It felt wrong but so right. 

But Bucky’s totally out of his league. Bucky was six years older than Steve, with his own practice, apartment, cat, and everything. What did Steve have? Severe asthma and his art. 

Steve sulked the day before the next appointment. Asthma reared its ugly head too. His sadness about not being able to go to the book tour plus his lovesick pining made it even worse. Stress always made symptoms worse. 

That night, Steve collapsed into bed two hours before his usual bedtime. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep. When he did fall into a deep slumber, he woke up choking for air. Thankfully the new rescue inhaler worked but his body said otherwise. 

He didn’t get back to sleep after that. 

Morning came too early. Steve dragged himself out of bed, taking a granola bar and bottled water on his way out. His movements were sluggish due to the lack of sleep. His lungs protested at the chilly morning air of Brooklyn. He coughed the whole way to the clinic, a wool scarf he wore hardly did any good. 

Clint called Steve back almost immediately after he arrived. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to sit down after signing in. Apparently they were short staffed. Wanda had called in sick and Thor went off on a supply run at the hospital. 

So Steve wasn't the only one with a bad start of the day. 

Outside the exam room, Clint fixed a hard stare on Steve, who lingered inside. “You feeling alright?”

“Huh?” Clint’s gruff voice nearly made Steve jump out of his skin. Crap, he almost collided with the counter. “Right, um, course. I’m good.” 

Clint didn’t say anything further. He nodded and closed the door before giving Steve the usual ‘doctor will be with you soon.’ 

Every limb protested each movement as he climbed up on the table. The step stool wasn't much use either. Steve lowered himself to lay down, shuffling to his side. It took far more strength than he had to stay in an upright position. He brought his legs up to his chest, wrapping an arm around them.

Closing his eyes wouldn't hurt. 

He didn’t hear the soft knock or the click of the door shutting. Or the person calling his name. 

A hand smoothed his hair away, another rested against his forehead. A thermometer replaced them and thereafter it beeped. 

His sweater sleeve rolled up and a nylon material encased his arm. It squeezed tight with a faint buzz in the background. 

Cold metal slipped beneath his shirt, gliding across his entire chest. 

Some sort of clip latched onto his finger, then a whispered curse echoed the room. 

A hand gently shook his shoulder, causing Steve to peer his eyes open slightly. 

The softest hands he ever felt cradled his cheeks. “Look up here, Steve.”  
  
Steve lifted his gaze, blinking a couple times to adjust to the bright room. He shrieked a gasp at who stood above him. 

“Bucky?” His yawn turned to a dry cough, a wheeze followed. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Bucky studied Steve’s face like a textbook. “Hmm, Clint was right.” 

Steve yawned again and the wheezes didn’t seem to phase him at all. “‘bout what?”

Bucky kneaded his fingers below Steve’s chin, feeling his lymph nodes. “How awful you look, and that’s putting it lightly.” 

“What’s going on, pal?” Bucky looked of concern, he rested a hand over Steve’s shoulder. “Thought we were on the right track, what happened?” 

“Dunno, haven’t felt great since yesterday and I couldn’t sleep last night...” A light bulb light up. “Shit! I forgot to take my meds.” He covered his eyes with a groan. “Oh God, I’ve never done that before.” 

Bucky’s mouth fell into a frown. “Now I’m even more concerned but that can wait,” he sighed, lowering his voice to a whisper before continuing. “Steve, your vitals are on the edge of me sending you straight to the hospital—” 

“What?” Steve’s eyes bugged out, dread sank in the pit of his stomach. He gathered enough energy to sit up and lean on his elbows. “No!” 

“Ssh, don’t work yourself further. Let me finish.” Bucky pushed Steve back down with a hand to his chest. “But I think a nebulizer treatment, some oxygen, and a nap would do you some good.” 

Steve interrupted Bucky for the second time. “No hospital?” 

Bucky’s face softened. “No hospital, pal. We’ve got a room set up with a bed and everything,” he said. “You should take it easy today, not sure if you had plans or not but I insist on rest given your current state.” 

“I don’t, most times I only work on commissions during the weekend.” He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. How negligent of him, forgetting his meds two days in a row. Crushing for Bucky coupled with the disappointment of not meeting his idol was part of the blame.

Steve jumped into full consiousnes from a passing thought. “Wait, didn't we have allergy testing today?” 

Bucky shook his head. “You’re in no condition for that,” he said, patting Steve’s arm. “Next time. Come on, the room’s not too far.” 

Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulders to keep him from falling over. Even in his worn out state, Steve loved how his body could slide right into Bucky’s side. They were a perfect fit. The room in question looked like a standard hospital suite. Only much simpler. A bed was in the center with a counter off the side. A guest chair and a stool pushed against the far wall. 

Bucky helped Steve settle into the bed, he searched an overhead cabinet and pulled out a blanket. “I need to grab a few things, think you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” 

Steve brought the blanket up to his chin while Bucky smoothed the lower half over his legs. “Mmhm,” he mumbled, relaxing into the warm confines of the bed. 

For a hospital bed, the mattress quality exceeded his expectations of one. Steve could melt right there. He dozed off for a minute before Bucky returned, supplies in hand. 

Something clicked in his brain. Until that moment, he hadn’t quite realized Bucky wore navy blue scrubs beneath his usual white coat. Bucky’s shoulder length hair wasn’t pulled up either. Those wavy locks looked like he’d just washed it prior that morning. Steve bet it smelled amazing. 

Steve held back a wheezy moan at the sight. “Now’s it scrub day?” 

“Seemed like a perfect day for it.” The nebulizer sat on a side table, tubing, and all connected to it. “I’m giving you a double dose, that wheezing has gotten pretty bad.” 

Bucky pulled the straps of the mask over Steve's head, securing a seal to his face. The machine turned on with a faint hum. Steve gave in to the dreariness that settled in his bones and closed his eyes. 

A few coughs slipped between breaths at first. Then they turned to an all out coughing fit. He clenched the blanket, thinking it would turn for the worse. He took a deep gulp of air, hoping the mist would work to settle his lungs. 

“Easy, you’re okay.” A heart monitor clip attached to Steve’s finger, glowing a bright red. “See? Got a steady pulse going.” Bucky pointed at the monitor beside the bed, it beeped a constant rhythm. 

When Steve’s breathing settled, he couldn’t help the slip of a question that bugged him. “You do all this for your patients?” The mask muffled his voice, fogging it up as he spoke. 

Bucky winked at Steve with a sly grin, eyes crinkling, and nose scrunching. It lit a spark in Steve. “Well, let’s just say that you’re a little special.”  
  
 _What the hell did that mean?_

Steve would ask further if it weren’t for the medication making him woozy. It was a wonder he hadn’t fallen asleep yet. The machine sputtered, Bucky turned it off and replaced the mask with an oxygen cannula under Steve’s nose. 

The shakiness that came after the treatment drove Steve to silence. 

Bucky had the stethoscope on already, he warmed the metal disc up with his hand. "Let's see how that worked out." He pressed the disc to Steve's chest, after a minute he hummed in what sounded of satisfaction. "Much better." 

Eyes half-lidded, exhaustion tugged Steve closer to unconsciousness, he relaxed, comfortable and content in the soft bed. Half asleep, he heard Bucky talking to him next to his ear. 

“Be back in a couple of hours to check on you.” Bucky squeezed his hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Steve's ear. “Get some rest, Steve.” 

* * *

Steve felt surprisingly refreshed when he woke up. He didn’t know of the time, but he could breathe and that was all that mattered. He took a slow deep breath through his nose, sighing in contentment by how soothing the cool oxygen was. What a wonder what modern medicine could do. 

He blinked his eyes open. The lights were dimmed, enough so they wouldn’t burn his retinas out. To the far wall, the clock read quarter past eleven. Wow, he slept for over two hours? 

A familiar voice on his left startled him fully awake. 

“How’s my number one patient?” 

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat. _Number one patient?_ Was that what Bucky meant about him being special? Oh, shit. He was still hooked up on the heart monitor. He couldn't let his feelings get to him, they would alert Bucky in no time. He had no excuses if his heart rate increased.  
  
“M’better, so much better,” he yawned, stretching his arms and legs. 

“Figured you needed it.” Bucky leaned over to playfully slap Steve’s knee. “Almost gave me a heart attack this morning.” 

“Sorry, guess everything finally did me in.” Steve focused on Bucky, what a breathtaking sight. Yeah, breathtaking. Literally Steve’s life. 

Bucky gave him a stare only a doctor would make. “What was that about exactly?” Concern filtered his voice. “You said something about not being able to sleep and...” he shifted in his seat. “Not taking your meds for two days.” 

_My crush on you has sort of interfered with my daily life, Steve wanted to say._

Instead, Steve burrowed himself further into the blanket with a scowl. “God, it’s so stupid.” 

“Hey, no.” A hand covered Steve’s knee. “It’s not stupid. Chronic asthmatics like you don’t skimp out on meds for no good reason.” Bucky lowered his voice to a murmur. “What’s been up?” 

Might as well go with a reasonable answer. Granted, it was true but it didn’t paint the whole picture. 

“Remember when I told you how much Peggy Carter’s novels mean to me?” 

Bucky nodded, encouraging him to continue. 

“Last week Sam got me a ticket. Well, sort of.” Steve sighed, clenching his eyes shut at the memory. “But the ticket company claimed it was a technical error, so no ticket for me. Didn't realize how much its been affecting me until now.” 

Bucky made a face full of disgust. “That’s horrible,” he said. “I’m so sorry about that, Steve.” 

“Combine that with the chilly mornings and look where it landed me.” Steve couldn’t lift his eyes off Bucky’s hand. He loved that blanket up until that point. They’re just mere inches away from each other and the damn fabric had to be in the way. 

Bucky squeezed his knee, hesitating before pulling away like he wanted to keep holding on. He scanned Steve’s face and leaned against the chair’s backside, keeping hands to himself. 

“For one, no one could blame you for being upset,” Bucky continued, eyes dead set, “But Steve, you need to remember to take care of yourself. Especially during these winter months.” 

Bucky took a small piece of paper from his coat pocket. “I want you to have this.” 

Steve froze, gaping in disbelief. 

_Would that be what he thought it was?_

It read, in Bucky’s chicken scratch handwriting. _‘Your fight is not done ‘till the end of the line. 325-57038.’_

“This is for emergencies only. It automatically redirects to my personal number. So if you ever have a problem, don’t hesitate to give a call.”

_Damn it, of course not. Wishful thinking._

“Why are you giving this to me?” 

“I care about you, Steve,” Bucky said sincerely. “I know I’m your doctor but I do consider you as a good friend.”

“Thank you.” Steve felt a tear prickle in the corner of his eye. “I consider you as a friend too.” 

Steve wanted their relationship to be more than just friends. But he was Bucky’s patent and he just thought of Steve as a friend, nothing more. Soon, his crush would turn to heartache. Longing for a person you couldn’t have was the second worst thing in the world according to Steve, next to breathing. 

“Good, you’re welcome,” Bucky’s eyes softened and lips curved into a smile. “Hungry? It’s almost my lunch break. Got a couple of sandwichs packed in the breakroom.” 

_Bucky wanted to have lunch with him?_

Steve’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. “Sure, if it’s not too much trouble,” he said with a chuckle. “I only had a granola bar this morning.” 

“No trouble at all. Gimme a sec and I’ll be back with ‘em.” 

Bucky left briefly and returned with two sandwiches and a couple of water bottles. He handed one of each to Steve. 

Bucky kicked his shoes off and dropped into the chair. He lifted his feet up on the bed, one ankle over the other. “So.” He bit into his sandwich. “How’ve you been? Bad news aside.” 

Steve cleared his throat after swallowing. “Normal as always. Completed some commissions and worked on my comic series." No way in hell would he mention the doodles of Bucky. "Work is straightforward so that’s kinda it,” he paused, staring at his sandwich. “Honestly my life isn’t all that exciting. I’m sure yours is much more interesting, being a doctor and all.” 

“Jesus, no. Trust me, my life is far from interesting.” Bucky grumbled into another bite. “Since I opened up my own practice three years ago, I keep my head occupied with work. Back home I’ve got a demon of a cat and nothing much else.” 

Fireworks went off in Steve’s mind. So Bucky _was_ single. 

“You probably get this question a lot, but why did you become a doctor?”  
  
Bucky snickered. “Do you want the whole story or the rundown version?” 

“We’re talking aren’t we?” Steve said. “Might as well go for the full thing.” 

“Okay.” Bucky sat up straighter with a soft laugh “Back in kindergarten I pushed my sister off the swing by accident,” he continued and his tone sounded sorrowful.“ She fell backwards and hit her head. I was so upset with myself that I promised her I’d become a doctor to make it better.” 

Laughed overtook Steve and he awed at the mental picture. “How’d you end up pushing her?” 

The water bottle crinkled as Bucky opened it. “Fell off my scooter and landed head first.” Steve nearly drooled the way Bucky pressed the bottle to his lips. “She wasn’t too happy about it, called me the clumsiest half of the twin.” 

“Yeah, I can imagine. So what landed you here?” 

Bucky’s face contorted to a look of sadness, hurt set in his eyes. “That’s the not so fun part.” He stiffened with a grumble and rubbed a hand over his left arm. 

“Back in med school, I wanted to pursue surgery.” Bucky clenched his eyes shut and paused for a moment. “That all changed when I got into a car accident.” He looked at his shoulder as if the pain still lingered. “Now I’m left with lifelong nerve damage on my entire shoulder.” 

“Oh, god, that’s horrible.” How could an incredible person like him go through such a tragic thing? The world was a cruel place. “I’m so sorry about that Bucky.” 

Bucky nodded with a one sided shrug. “Exercise helps a ton but my best friend, Natasha, was the one who helped me through it. Family medicine looked intriguing so I settled with it. Few years after residency I wanted to open my own practice,” he said. “So I got Nat involved and here we are.” 

“Glad you got through your recovery and figured things out. You’re really good at it, may I remind you again.” 

Bucky blushed a grin. “Tell me a little more about yourself.” 

Steve fiddled with the plastic bag that covered half the sandwich. “As I mentioned before, my life isn’t too exciting,” he sighed. “Lost my ma from a stroke right before college.” 

“Oh no, sorry to hear that.” 

“Miss her a lot.” Steve blinked back the tears that threatened to rise. “But hey, I’ve got you and Sam now, right?” 

“That you do.” Bucky slowly winked at Steve. 

Some day Steve’s heart would explode and he would accidentally blurt out his well kept secret. He knew he was setting himself up for disappointment. He couldn't stop crushing Bucky. It was next to impossible. He never crushed on someone like Bucky before. Bucky’s unique. 

They finished their lunch between more conversations. Bucky removed all the medical equipment attached to Steve and Bucky mentioned the blood work from the week prior had come back clean. 

Like a tradition it had become, Bucky walked Steve out and gave him a squeezing hug that felt like a warm blanket straight from the dryer. 

“Be safe," Bucky said, pulling away from the hug. "Don’t stay out in the cold for too long!” 

“I won’t, Bucky,” Steve snickered, annoyed at the reminder yet loving the fact Bucky cared so much about him. 

“You’ve got allergy testing next week too, remember that.” 

Steve huffed a long drawn out groan. “God, don’t remind me!” 

“It’ll be fine, punk.” 

By the time Steve got home, it was half past twelve in the afternoon. He didn’t even look at his phone the whole way back. To his surprise, he had two missed calls and three unread text messages. 

They were all from Sam, and they weren’t happy. 

Right, crap. He slept for almost three hours at Bucky’s clinic then had lunch with him. That was twice as long as a normal visit, no wonder Sam’s worried sick.

Sam picked up on the first ring. 

“Steve, where the hell are you?” Sam yelled through the phone. “I’ve been calling for two hours now. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine Sam, just got home. And I’m not dying or anything.” 

Sam sighed. “Thank god, I was about to call the hospital. So what took so long?” 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. Good thing Sam couldn’t see him. “Long story short, I took a nap.”

Silence. “You napped at the doctor’s office?” Sam probably had that ‘I’m not judging you but I’m keeping an eye on you in case’ look on his face. “What for?” 

“Because uh, I didn’t sleep well last night and he suggested it,” Steve said, not wanting to cover all the little details to worry Sam. “Believe me, you don’t need the specifics.” 

“Well alright then, if Barnes, or Bucky as you call him- says you need it, then good.” Sam dropped his voice to a quieter tone. “I know you’ve been taking it pretty hard, not being able to meet Peggy.”

Steve sighed a hum into the phone. “I’m hanging in there. Oh, and he also gave me a number in case I’d ever need it for emergencies. I put it on the fridge.” 

“Let me get this straight.” Sam cleared his throat. “He let you nap in his office and now he’s giving you his number?” 

“We also had lunch together and—” Steve clamped a hand over his mouth the second he blurted it. Whoops, slip up. 

So much for being secretive. But then again, what was there to hide? His giant crush on his doctor, could it be so wrong? Not like Bucky felt the same way. Bucky’s just a friendly doctor who cared about Steve. Just, really cared for him deeply. 

A sharp wheeze pierced through the phone. Like Sam was doubled over laughing. “Sorry, sorry, but um. Was that a doctor’s appointment or more of a...date?” More laughter. 

While at a loss for words, Steve managed to stay calm with his reply. “Huh? No! Well, yes. While I do like Bucky, he’s also a great doctor. He’s gentle and kind and he understands me.” 

“No, you don’t just like him,” Sam paused, voice lowered. “You like him, _like him_.” 

Leave it to Sam to figure it out. Sam knew Steve more than he knew himself sometimes. Years of being roommates did that. Steve hated it occasionally. Like this very moment.   
  
Steve stayed silent for a beat. Quietly, thinking someone else would hear him in the empty apartment, he whispered, “I do.” 

“Make sense actually. Wondered why you were so quick to like the guy. Even took you a few years to get comfortable around Erskine.” 

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s just a crush.” The biggest crush of the century. “Not like he feels the same way about me.” 

Sam sighed. “You're entering dangerous territory here, Steve.” He probably was. Steve didn’t care because it felt so damn right. “Please be careful because I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”  
  
“I can handle myself just fine, Sam. But thank you though.” 

The call ended shortly thereafter. Sam kept repeating the same talk about not getting carried away. But it was too late, Steve’s already head over heels for Bucky. No turning back now or trying to move on. 

Oh god. It just hit him. This wasn’t a crush. No, no, no. This was more than a crush. 

Steve _liked_ Bucky. So much he wanted to go on dates with Bucky. Talk and figure out more about each other, watch movies, and eat junk food. _Wait, do doctors eat junk food?_

Not to mention all the physical stuff that loomed his brain for weeks.

But Steve had to face the reality. Bucky didn’t like him back. Bucky was a doctor, _his_ doctor. Doctors underwent years of formal training. No doctor would ever enter a romantic relationship with a patient let alone have feelings and crush on one. 

No matter what, Steve continued to long for Bucky. He was in for it, full stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me, Bucky wants to jump on the opportunity to be with Steve but he knows its wrong. But little does Steve know, Bucky /does/ feel the same way :) They'll have to figure out how to get past that hill. (I mean it's simple really but of course, they don't do things simple)


	4. God as My Witness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little late on the update but for good reason! Last minute my brain blessed me with a new idea. So the second scene was never planned. I'm a total pantser at times haha. 
> 
> This chapter is fuuullll of hurt/comfort goodness cause I was in a ~mood~ for one. 
> 
> And as you can tell, there are 7 chapters to this fic now. Had to split up what was going to be the original chapter 4. Their relationship will further develop next week. ...Hopefully if I don't come up with more ideas lol.
> 
> As always, a trigger warning at the end note.

Needless to say, Steve turned into a nervous wreck. Last allergy test, he cried throughout the whole procedure. Not fun when you wouldn't be able to scratch for at least twenty minutes. Plus add extra time to measure each one that turned positive. 

Although Bucky would be by his side, Steve doubted it would be enough to calm his nerves. 

Bullets of sweat poured down the side of his face and neck while he waited in the exam room. The sight of Bucky in his too-tight dress shirt didn't effect Steve this time around. All he focused on was the case of skin prick tests under Bucky's arms. 

For vitals check, they both stayed silent, only exchanging one or two word phrases every now and then. Steve couldn’t be more thankful, all he had to do was breathe during the lung exam. 

Apparently he zoned out during the exam because Bucky snapped his fingers to pull him out of it. 

Steve backed away, shaking his head to clear the fog that clouded his mind. “You’re awfully shy,” Bucky said, throwing the stethoscope around his collar. “Hope I haven’t done anything wrong, I apologize if I did.” 

“No, never!” Steve raised his hands out. “Just not looking forward to...” he pointed to the test kit. “That.” 

Bucky looked from Steve to the test kit. “Oh, I get it.” He took a few cotton balls from a jar. "You don't like me today, huh?" 

_Oh no at all, he liked Bucky but not in this particular situation._

“Think it’s safe to say that.” Steve hugged himself, both arms clutching his torso. “My uh, experience with allergy testing isn’t all that pleasant.” 

“That’s okay.” Bucky crooked a grin with a wink and made a click clack sound. “You’ll in my hands, remember? Don't sweat it.” 

Steve suppressed a whine. Bucky sounded so cute and affirmative with confidence. It killed Steve by how much he loved it. If there was such a thing of having a caretaker kink, Steve had it. “Not sure how I’ll do but it’s the thought that counts.”

“Take your shirt off then lay on your stomach,” Bucky instructed, taking a couple of gloves from a box on the wall.

Shit, shit, shit. Why didn’t he think of that beforehand? He was going to be naked from the waist up, right in front of Bucky. At least he had something to occupy his brain. If his body allowed him to. 

Steve folded his shirt and placed it atop a chair. “I should be honest with you before we get started.”  
  
“Hm?” Bucky raised a brow and uncapped a container of rubbing alcohol. 

“I...kicked a nurse one time.” Steve ducked his head down, guilty. 

Bucky choked a sharp laugh. “Damn, noted.” Steve’s back exposed, palms pulled above his head. “But you’ve got my permission to kick and scream to your heart's content.” 

Dignity long gone, Steve guaranteed he'd make some awful sounds. And if he was honest with himself, being around Bucky was easy and comforting. Least there was that. 

Steve grumbled. “Let’s get this over with before I make a run for it.” 

“Okay,” Bucky giggled lightly but Steve glared so hard, it made him shut up sooner than he started. 

Cold cotton swiped over Steve’s entire back. Bucky hummed to himself as he marked where each allergen would go.

“Doing okay so far?” Bucky lifted the pen away for a moment.  
  
“Yeah, jerk.” Steve rolled his eyes, half regretting the nickname. “Know why? 'cause you haven’t poked me yet.” 

“Just checking in is all.” Bucky turned around. “Let me get you a pillow, maybe that’ll help.” 

Steve lifted his head up, pillow sliding underneath. “Oh, that’s much better,” Steve mumbled, rubbing his face into the soft plush fabric. “Won’t take the edge off but least it's something.” 

Bucky held out the small testing device to show Steve, he nodded for the go ahead. “Just a reminder that you can curse all you want," Bucky said. "I don’t mind.” 

“I’m gonna cuss alright,” Steve grumbled into the pillow. “It won’t be pretty.”  
  
“Kay, here we go. Slight pressure.” 

Despite the uncomfortable pressure, the worst part hadn’t set in yet. No more than five minutes, his skin itched like stepping into a pile of fire ants. Only worse, it had an odd sensation like no other. 

Steve yelped and gripped the paper that covered the exam table. It crinkled between his fingers. “It itches. It itches!” 

“I know, pal.” Bucky fanned a folder over Steve’s back with a sympathetic frown. “Ten minutes to go.”  
  
Steve kicked his feet with a hiccup, breath hitched in his throat. “No, I can’t.” He shook his head. “Stop. Make it stop.”  
  
“Steve.” How Bucky managed to sound so serious yet so comforting was beyond Steve. “Relax, you’re okay.” 

Every second the itching became more, more and more. Like the slow trickle of a river. 

“No. Bucky, I can’t do it.” Steve gasped between breaths. “ _Hurts_.” 

Through the tears, he saw the blurry figure of Bucky bending down to his eye level. Steve's hand entwined with Bucky's. 

“Steve, look at me.” Bucky soothed Steve by rubbing his upper back near his shoulders all the while avoiding the testing sights. “Deep breaths, pal. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”  
  
No good. From all the crying, his nose was full of snot. 

“Hang on a sec.” Bucky came back with a box of tissues. He wiped Steve’s eyes with one and handed him another to blow his nose. 

Thereafter, Steve managed to get his breathing down but the itching still drove him nuts. “How.” _Sniff._ “Much.” _Sniff._ “Longer?” 

Bucky massaged Steve's neck, expert fingers pressing into all the right spots. “Eight minutes. Then I gotta measure them, remember? I’ll put some aloe on your back when we’re done.” 

Time seemed like it went on for an eternity. “I’m making a fool of myself right in front of you,” he said, sniffling.  
  
Bucky shook his head. “No, you’re reacting like anyone else would. You don’t have to apologize, I get it.” What a bedside manner of a saint. 

“I’d make a snarky comment but— kinda occupied right now.” Steve reminded himself to do the breathing exercises Bucky told him. 

“Hm, I wonder how that would go?” Bucky said, grinning. “'Something, something, Bucky’s the best doctor ever,' is that it?”

Good thing he had a valid excuse for crying. “Sounds about right.” Steve huffed a laugh, blinking away more tears. 

When the time was up, Steve tossed and turned like he hadn’t been able to move for hours. 

Bucky sighed, shaking his head while he tried to get an accurate reading with a plastic measurement tool. “Steve, if you don’t stop squirming I’ll get someone in here and hold you down.” 

Steve froze in place. “Sorry,” he said quietly. 

Bucky mumbled numbers and phrases, writing everything down as he went. “Alright and you’re allergic to...” he paused, counting under his breath. “All but seven.” 

Steve’s eyes widened, he tried to sit up but Bucky’s hand shot out and forced him to lay back down. Course he had to be allergic to everything known to man. 

“Please tell me you’re almost done.”  
  
“I’m finished for that part, yes,” Bucky said. “Now you’ll get the good stuff.” 

Steve sighed and relaxed as the cool lotion worked into his skin. Bucky’s hands and fingers dipped further into his skin, working from one spot to another. Maybe in another lifetime, Bucky worked as a masseur, because he sure seemed like one. 

“That feels good?” Bucky’s voice dipped to a low murmur. 

“Mmm, so much.” Steve had his eyes closed, enjoying the gentle yet firm hands gliding over his back. He knew Bucky’s hands were big but they seemed twice as large on his back. 

Bucky giggled. “So that’s all it took to win me back huh?” he said, pushing down with a little more force. “Just had to pull out the aloe and you’re practically melting under my hands.”  
  
For such a bad day, it somehow turned upside down all thanks to Bucky. Steve knew he could count on him. Greatest bedside mannered doctor ever. 

“You try being allergic to everything under the sun, it’s not fun.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.” Bucky turned around to wash his hands. “You had some pretty big lesions.” 

Steve scrunched his face up, disgusted. “Gross.”  
  
“Sorry, medical terminology. Force of habit.”  
  
“Sounds weird,” Steve said, reaching to pull his shirt back on.  
  
“You’re weird, punk.” Bucky almost had the shirt thrown to his face. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding, you did great.”  
  
Steve scoffed. “I screamed and cried the whole time.”  
  
“You pulled through. That’s what counts.” 

“You’re the best.”   
  
“And you’re the best patient,” Bucky smirked, face morphing into a grimace at Steve's constant squirming. The shirt fabric did not help with the itching. "Here, let me get you something for that." He dug around an overhead cabinet and brought out a box of antihistamine pills. He tore off a one for Steve. 

"Wow, name brand," Steve said as Bucky filled a paper cut with water. 

"Always get the best ones available." Bucky passed the water to Steve, their fingers brushed. "I'll get you a sample box on your way out." 

"Really? That's so nice of you." He drank the rest of the water after swallowing the pill. "Thanks." 

Bucky lifted his focus from writing in Steve's chart and instead, turned to look at him. "That's what I'm here for," he said, turning a page in the chart. "You're highly allergic to dust mites alongside many types of pollen. No food allergies, lucky you. I'm prescribing a stronger dose of antihistamines since they're not available over the counter." 

"Getting me prepared for when spring hits?" Steve drew an interested hum, remembering his current predicament. Right. Allergic bronchitis. Well, spring allergies were always a bitch anyway. He'd love to be relieved from them for once. 

"You betcha." He closed the chart. "I do have one question for you. And you don't have to say yes, I'm just leaving this option out on the table." 

"Hm?" 

Bucky dragged out a long breath, putting his hands in his coat pockets, leaning on the counter. "I suggest allergies shots. Though, immunotherapy can be a lot. Combined with the cost factor and going in twice a week to an allergist's office. But they might help. I'll understand if you don't want to. Know that I'm not pushing you to do them. Just a suggestion." 

Shots? _Shots._ No. God, no. He doesn't want that. Okay yes, so his allergies drove him nuts in the spring. They're driving him crazy _now_ and interfering with his asthma. But at the cost of going back and forth between offices twice a week? With his job, commisons work and personal comic series he worked on every day? No way possible. And added with the literal cost? He couldn't afford it. 

Beyond the cost and time factors, he doesn't want shots. Shots hurt. They sting, they're sometimes painful. Thank goodness for twenty-first-century medicine, most asthma-related medicines came in a mist or pill form. Only when it got seriously bad did needles come into the picture. 

Shots were a no go. They had to be. Steve couldn't get the inner strength or courage to do them. But Bucky said it was an option. Maybe he'd think about it and down the line and they'd come up with a compromise. 

Steve stiffened, unable to stop himself from protectively cradling his arms, hairs stood straight up. The room turned cold suddenly. Goosebumps. "Yeah, I don't think so. But I'll think about it. Might consider it one day when money is more manageable." 

"That's fine," Bucky nodded, fumbling with a few coins in his pocket. "I could tell you immediately tensed up when I mentioned them. Which is why I said the option's out there." 

"You're so good to me," Steve admitted with a murmur so quietly, it neared a whisper. It was Bucky's turn to stiffen. He shot his head up where he'd been staring off in space. Blue eyes met Steve's. If people could gaze into each other's souls, that was how it'd look. "I appreciate it, so much. You let me choose instead of insisting I do something that I don't want to. That means a lot to me. I've probably said it before but just wanted to get that out." 

Bucky eased his posture and face softened into a small smile. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear and ducked his head slightly, still keeping eyes on Steve. "I'd never force you to do something you're not comfortable with. Never. And if somethings necessary and you're still hesitant, I'll guide you along the way." 

Steve matched Bucky's smile. "What did I do to deserve you?" 

"God as my witness," Bucky blurted out instantaneously.   
  
Steve tilted his head and raised a brow. 

"Sorry, that slipped out. It's a Foo Fighters song," Bucky smirked, cheeks forming a light pink blush. "Reminded me of it." 

"Ohh, okay. Makes sense." Steve nodded to go along with the conversation like he understood what Bucky just said. _Foo Fighters?_ Sam always did say he had the music taste of an eighty year old. 

"You don't know them?" Steve shook his head. "Wow, Clint would be insulted. Tell him that before you leave." Bucky turned to try and hide a laugh. Steve still heard him. "I wanna see his reaction." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Laugh it up. My music taste isn't exactly up to current standards."   
  
Bucky shrugged, gathering up Steve's chart. "Eh, they're from the nineties but okay." Steve sat stunned in place, mouth parted. He _really_ wasn't up to music standards. "Come on man, let's get you out of here before Clint starts quizzing you on the post-grunge era rock music." 

Steve shook himself out of whatever headspace he'd been in and followed Bucky out the door. They talked amongst themselves as they trekked down the hall, learning small facts about each other. Having Bucky by his side after each visit became Steve's favorite part. Like last time, Bucky pulled Steve aside again, to a short dead-end hallway.   
  
Bucky chewed on his bottom lip, staring at Steve's lips for a moment before diverting his gaze elsewhere. The space was silent aside from muffled chatter coming from the waiting room beyond the hall door. Bucky turned around to open a closet small enough to be considered a linen closet. He reached the top shelf and pulled out a small box. 

"Take these once a day until you get your prescription filled," Bucky said, giving Steve the box. "They last up to eight hours but your prescription lasts a bit longer." 

"Nice, thanks." The box was small enough to fit inside Steve's coat pocket. 

They lingered there in silence again. Steve wondered why Bucky hesitated. He seemed reserved and put off, his hands were clenched at his sides. Right around this time was when Bucky usually hugged Steve. He did it so often it became the norm, Like their own routine. Did something happen to make Bucky not want to hug him anymore? 

Bucky lifted a single arm, resting a hand on Steve's left shoulder. He moved in closer, their chests almost touching but not quite. "I'd hug you but your back is pretty messed up right now." 

_Oh._ That was the reason. Steve forgot about that until Bucky mentioned it. Either the medicine and aloe worked or Bucky managed to distract him enough from the lingering itchiness. 

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky and pulled himself flush against him. He pressed a cheek to Bucky's shirt, smelling a mix of shampoo and some sort of hair product. Bucky tensed up with a soft gasp of surprise, he hovered his arms until setting them on the back of Steve's neck. 

"Okay, that works out too then," Bucky said with a huff. Under Steve's latches, he noticed Bucky's lips turned into a curve of a smile. He looked so pretty. Steve could live right here forever. 

Steve shivered with a jolt. An itch ran down the middle of his back. "Don't think you'll hurt me if you scratch my back." 

Bucky lowered his hands and started to gently run his fingers up and down Steve's back, bearing down with a bit of force as he went. The tips of his fingers touched every annoying itchy spot. Steve had to hold back a moan from how amazing it felt. 

"Jesus, I—" Steve sighed, slipping his eyes shut at the sensation. Every tension, every nerve came out right then and there.   
  
"Feels good, huh?" Bucky chuckled. 

"Mhm, you're forgiven." Forget the aloe, this was what he needed all along. 

Over a dozen light scratches later, Bucky literally had to pry Steve away. "Up you get pal, I've got patients to see and you've gotta get home to rest." 

A bed and a nap sounded amazing. Too bad he couldn't sleep here again. Unless...

No. That would be overstepping. He had no reason to stay. If he did, it would look suspicious. Not like he just had an asthma attack. A part of him _wished_ he had one just to hang out with Bucky more. Christ, Rogers, what the hell? Wishing for an asthma attack. They're trying to get it under control for crying out loud. What a horrible thought, wanting to get his way like a teenager sneaking out on a Friday night. 

They parted from each other and made their way to the check out window. Steve stood at the counter, handing an insurance card to Clint. Bucky went to the back and leaned over Clint's shoulder, whispering something in his ear. 

Clint's eyes widened and looked at Steve with a dead serious face. "How the hell have you gone twenty-something years of your life and never heard of the drum god known as Dave Grohl?" 

"Guess I don't listen to the right stations." People listen to the radio still, right? Was he that old fashioned? 

"Youtube. Spotify. Hell, iTunes music if anyone still uses that. Look em' up."   
  
He only heard of the first one. Apparently he _was_ old fashioned. 

Bucky laughed in the background as he pulled out a few charts from a shelf. "Clint, you're projecting your music taste onto other people again." 

"Hey!" Clint swiveled around to face Bucky, pointing a finger at him. "Everyone should acknowledge what that man did after Nirvana." 

Steve snorted at the banter between the two. He parted ways and said his goodbyes to Bucky and Clint before Pietro led him out with the wheelchair. Right before the door closed, Steve heard a yell from the back. 

_"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S NEVER LISTENED TO EVERLONG?"_

* * *

The following appointment, Steve had to sit in the waiting room for longer than normal. Usually, someone called his name right after signing in. He looked at the clock. He arrived almost twenty minutes ago.

Peering to the reception area, Steve noticed the usual nurses and receptionists weren't back there. Surprisingly, he was the only one in the waiting room. Must be a slow day because sometimes on Fridays, the room would be half full. 

Thinking, he remembered seeing a couple being ushered to the back. The back door slammed soon as he passed through the front doors. At the time he thought nothing of it. Now, it seemed odd given the circumstances. But surely they had more than enough staff to handle whatever was going on. 

The clock ticked, drowning out the silence of the waiting room. Another fifteen minutes passed. Still nothing. At that point, Steve wished he brought his sketchbook to pass the time. He'd ask what was going on if not for the fact no one was at the front desk. 

Seriously, what was the hold up? 

A sharp wail from the back pierced the silence. A child. The cries went on and didn't stop. Soon after the cries settled down, the front doors were thrown open and paramedics came in with bags and a stretcher in tow. 

Steve knew they weren't here for him. But he still had that odd feeling of _'Oh shit, I'm in the middle of the chaos and yet, I still feel like I'm in the center of it.'_

One of the paramedics, 'Coulson', read on his jacket, stopped in his tracks to look at Steve. The look Steve got made him go white as a sheet. _They're not here for me,_ he repeated to himself. It felt strange to be the one who was healthy. Usually, it was the other way around.   
  
"You okay, son?" he asked, the other paramedic, 'Maria' opened the backdoor. 

"Fine, um." Steve took a shaky breath. Great, he let his fear get to him. Probably factored with having to wait for over half an hour. Up until now, he hadn't realized he'd been anxious the whole time. Fear of the unknown. Now, these EMTs will think he might be the one with an emergency if he weren't careful. "Pretty sure you're looking for them in the back." 

"Alright, thanks. You take care now," Coulson said, following Maria. 

Whatever was going on must've been urgent enough to call an ambulance. That could had been Steve a few weeks ago. Twice in fact. It hit him like a brick. He doesn't want to be careless anymore. He doesn't want to get to the point of having paramedics called out to him. He wanted to be happy and healthy. To be able to breathe on his own without a problem every time he does a simple task like checking the mail. 

Steve swallowed a lump in his throat and tried to shake the negative thoughts out of his mind. On one hand, he wanted to dart out of the room and call back later with an excuse. On the other, he wanted to see Bucky. 

Wait, no. He _needed_ to see Bucky. Bucky would fix whatever he was feeling right now. But wait, where was Bucky at? Oh right, _the emergency_. Bucky must be far too occupied with another patient to deal with him right now. 

Steve huddled himself tight with his arms, feeling so small in such a large room, all alone. The clock read eight forty-seven. The paramedics went back almost fifteen minutes ago. Who knew how long it would be until his turn.  
  
Just as Steve pondered the thought of pacing to settle his agitation, the backdoor opened. 

Bucky looked like he'd just gotten done wrestling a bear. His bun came loose, stands dandled in all sorts of directions. Sleeves of the white coat were pushed up to his forearms. 

"Sorry about the wait, we had an emergency." Bucky didn't go farther than standing outside the doorway, he held the door open. "Come on back, Steve." 

Seeing Bucky all rumbled threw Steve off. He looked tired yet, sort of _hot_ in a way. 

Steve brushed past Bucky and the door closed behind them. Bucky led him to their usual exam room. As they walked further down the hall, the wails from earlier got louder. The child hadn't stopped crying, only gotten quieter.   
  
_That should be me, he thought._

It might be him pretty soon if his emotions wouldn't shut up. 

Bucky shut the door and dropped the chart onto the counter. Steve faced the opposite wall of the exam table, frozen stock still in the middle of the room. The stool was there but no amount of energy would motivate him to climb on it. 

His carelessness may as well had led him to unforeseen circumstances. Not just a hospital visit to the emergency room, but _death_. 

_He almost died_ , a little voice in his head said. 

"Steve? You feeling okay?" A hand to his forehead. "You're pale as a ghost, no fever." 

Steve gasped a sharp, choking breath. He clamped a hand over his mouth to try and muffle the sobs beginning to rise. Shoulders slumped, every limb went numb, his body shook in tremors. Cold. Why does he feel cold all a sudden? 

"Oh no, hey." Bucky flicked his eyes up and down Steve, trying to read him. "What's wrong?" 

The sobs and tears shook Steve to his core. He withdrew his hand and instead, pushed them into his eyes. Heart pounded in his chest as he sniffled between each sob. Fast as a lightning bolt, his shaking legs gave out under him. 

Large hands caught Steve under his arms before he could fall to a heap. "Okay, okay. I've got you." Bucky carried Steve over and sat him on the table. 

Everything crashed at once. An avalanche of tears, sobs, and emotion. All in one go. Steve sucked in a short breath and choked on it, a new wave of tears streamed down his tear stained cheeks.

_Three months. Two days._

"Hey, hey, shh. Easy, let it out." Bucky cradled Steve in his arms, carefully guiding his head to lay on Bucky's chest, near his collarbone. He rubbed Steve's neck while running circles over his back. 

Horrible, violent hiccups came out of Steve's parted mouth. Wet, ragged wails heaved his chest so hard, causing pain to pool in his stomach. With no time to gather a complete breath between gasps.

_Hospital. Nearly called them because he was in such bad shape and refused to do anything about it prior._

"Ease your breathing down," Bucky murmured next to Steve's ear, who continued his loud cries. "Think of something relaxing. Think of palm trees blowing in the wind on a summer day at the beach. Think of waves crashing against rocks." 

"Buck— I— I— don't— can't." Steve stammered out with a shriek. 

"Yes, you can." Bucky rocked them back and forth. "You're almost hyperventilating, we don't want you to get thrown into an asthma attack." 

_Asthma this, asthma that. Screw asthma, that was the whole reason why he was stuck in this rut._

Never ending sobs escaped his lips. Steve began to wheeze, his lungs screamed in protest. He wasn't getting enough air in. He walked right into a fit. Steve's eyes widened in horror, he shook his head best he could as Bucky held him close. 

"Where's your inhaler?" Bucky patted and searched around Steve's coat pocket then his jeans pocket, pulling out a blue reliever. "Breathe this in sweetheart," Bucky ordered then pushed the device to Steve's lips. He pressed down on the canister to expel the medication. 

All the gasping sobs forced Steve to suck in the medication without prompt or doing so on his own. The medication reached his lungs, causing him to cough violently. 

"One more." Bucky pushed down on the inhaler again. 

_Why couldn't he be normal with a functioning body?_

Steve clutched at his throat, feeling his pulse hammering away. His coughs subsided but he continued to pant bursts of short paced breaths. He looked at Bucky with pleading eyes, terror overflowed his mind. 

"Bu—Buck—Bucky." 

Bucky removed Steve's death grip from his throat and placed his hand flat over his own chest. "Match my breathing, okay? Feel my chest. Slow down, deep breaths. Fill your belly with a full breath before exhaling, feel it rise and fall. Try to use your muscles, exhale with your shoulders." 

Steve fisted Bucky's coat lapel with his unoccupied hand. One shuddering breath down. Two shuddering breaths. 

Bucky shushed him quietly when Steve yelped back another sob. "In and out, in and out. Come back to me, Steve. There we go." 

They breathed together, relaxation settled in Steve's bones after five minutes. His cries stopped altogether, eyelids were half massed, clearly exhausted after. "M'cold." 

"Cold?" Bucky craned his neck down, he gently turned Steve's head to the side to get a better look at his face. "I'll get you a blanket. You went into shock back there." 

The fog clouding Steve's brain cleared as he came down from his adrenaline high. He cried in front of Bucky. He was currently being _held_ by Bucky. Every emotion, fresh as a loaf of bread still drifted in his mind. Yet right now, all Steve thought about was how warm and comforting it felt to be in Bucky's arms. 

Steve sniffled. "And some tissues," Bucky said, removing a hand from Steve to awkwardly lift the table's backrest halfway. 

Those wonderful arms. _Bucky_ , helped him calm down. Steve didn't want to part from his embrace. Not yet. He just got to feeling better. One minute. That was all he needed. Forget the blanket, Bucky was all he needed. Dignity and self-restraint flew over his head. "Please don't leave." 

Bucky patted Steve's back. "I'm not leaving you. Everything we need is in the cabinets." 

Bucky stepped back an inch, removing his hands. "No," Steve's thick voice called out, stopping Bucky in place. "Stay for just a minute. I'm— I'm sorry, for acting so— needy. It's just..." _That I really, really, like you and no one has ever comforted me that way, he wanted to say._ Literally no one. No one ever calmed him like the way Bucky just did. 

"Scary?" Bucky finished for him, returning to rub Steve's back. 

Thank the stars for leading Steve to this practice. To Bucky. 

"Yeah," Steve sighed. "It is." 

Steve held on, long as Bucky allowed before he insisted on the blanket and tissues. Bucky brought over a box of tissues and threw a thick wool blanket over Steve's shoulders. Steve took one from the box and wiped his eyes, another to blow his nose. 

"So what happened back there?" Steve lowered himself against the backrest. Halfway up but not all the way down. Like an outdoor lounge chair. 

"Funny you ask." Bucky adjusted the blanket so it would cover Steve's body entirely. He looked like a small cocoon. "Cause I was going to say the same thing." 

"You first," he hesitated to complete the sentence. "Mine's...complicated." 

"Alright. Mind if I go through your vitals while we talk?"   
  
"Sure." 

Bucky brought back a thermometer and pressed it to Steve's forehead. "We got a call soon as we opened." _Beep._ "A toddler had gotten a hold of some bolts and swallowed God knows how many. And, the poor girl was already sick."   
  
Maybe he was better off not knowing what happened. Steve winced and tugged the blanket closer to himself. "Jeez, that's awful." 

"Yeah, it wasn't um." Bucky cleared his throat, trying to hide whatever strained look he had on his face. "Not good." 

"Explains the wait." The blood pressure cuff inflated. "At first, I started to wonder if you guys forgot me or something." 

"Course not." Bucky turned around, taking an earpiece cover for the otoscope. "We rarely have situations like that." 

Steve frowned at Bucky. Why would he need his ears examined? "Uh, I'm not sick?" 

Bucky nudged Steve's head to the side, tucking loose strands of hair out of the way. "Just being thorough," he said, leaning to look at the device. 

"You sure? In fact, are _you_ okay? Here I thought I was shaken up." 

That must've thrown Bucky off because he seized his examination on the other side. Steve never saw Bucky lose his demeanor before. 

"Something wrong with me making sure you're in good health?" Bucky lowered his voice to a damn near snarl. Steve _never_ wanted to hear that again. 

"No! No, never." Bucky was fuming. Steve could tell, his face turned red. For the first time at the practice, Steve felt timid, vaguely similar to childhood appointments. Not completely but close. Did he say something wrong? 

Steve couldn't continue because Bucky asked him to stick out his tongue. He did, what else could he do? "Then let me do my job," Bucky said, pressing the wooden stick to Steve's tongue. "I can't see anything," he sighed. "Open your mouth some more. Wider, wider. There."   
  
Job. Of course. Jeez, why so rough? What headspace was Bucky in?   
  
_Gag._ How far did Bucky stick the damn thing in his throat? Bucky walked away. Not an apology in sight. His movements were slow, robotic even. Like he was going through the motions. What the hell happened back there to make Bucky's mood turn so sour? Was it _that_ bad? 

"Bucky." Steve's bottom lip wobbled. Don't cry again, don't cry again. "What's gotten into you?" 

Bucky acted as if he heard nothing, he moved on and pulled the nebulizer out of the cabinet. Steve breathed fine, the inhaler worked. Who was more traumatized here? 

Steve wracked his brain for something to get Bucky to listen. "I think..." He couldn't get it out, his insides felt like they turned to goo. Not while Bucky acted as he did now. He really doesn't want to get told off with a lecture. Although Bucky wouldn't do that, it wouldn't surprise him in the slightest. He finished the sentence with, "I want the mouthpiece this time," instead. 

Bucky huffed, throwing the plastic-covered mask back into the cabinet. "Fine, mouthpiece it is then." 

Steve doesn't need a breathing treatment, he could breathe just fine. Though, it wouldn't hurt. But still. Why waste medicine? Apparently they recently stocked up on albuterol in this room because Bucky pulled out a strip from a drawer. 

Sweat trickled down Bucky's forehead, a slip of a curse when the tubing fell out of his hands. Steve could tell Bucky needed to sit down. The mouthpiece shoved into Steve's hands, the machine turned on with a hum. 

They needed to talk. Steve _wanted_ to talk about what happened. He just needed to get Bucky to listen to him. If not, Bucky was going to pass out from all his pacing he was doing. 

"Bucky." Steve hovered the mouthpiece in front of him. He hadn't put it into his mouth. He doesn't need it. "Sit down before you _fall down._ " No lie, Steve felt proud of himself for sounding so affirmative. 

With a huff, Bucky dropped into a guest chair. Finally. Getting him to sit down sparked something in Bucky. His posture changed almost immediately. 

"Oh God, Steve," Bucky panted, clearly out of breath. He bent over to cover his face with his hands. "I am _so_ sorry. I— shit, I messed up." A sniff, loud enough to hear over the humming machine. 

"Bucky," Steve repeated. Look at him now, being the tough guy all of a sudden opposed to ten minutes ago. "I think you need this more than I do." 

Steve slid off the table, dragging the blanket with him. He sat next to Bucky and draped half the blanket over his shoulders. "Take it."   
  
Bucky took the offered mouthpiece without question. 

"Can you listen to me for a minute?" Steve asked.   
  
Bucky nodded, focusing on Steve. The mist clouding around them as he breathed. 

"When the paramedics came in, I freaked out. I...remembered some bad stuff that we can talk about later, it doesn't matter at the moment. But you dropped everything and calmed me down. You took care of me like you've always said. I just wanted to do the same for you." Steve pushed a loose strand of hair away from Bucky's face. "Not gonna lie, you scared me for a moment but I trust you at the end of the day." 

Bucky whined in the back of his throat, removing the mouthpiece momentarily "That doesn't justify it. I feel horrible, I shouldn't have treated you like that. God knows that's exactly how you were treated all those years ago. You questioned me and I still didn't stop." 

"Well, whatever happened must've shaken you up enough to make you act like that," Steve said. "You're human, everyone makes mistakes." 

Bucky half smiled. "You're right, it did get to me. Seeing you shaken up right after didn't help either. I got scared, thinking something was wrong with you and I was missing something. Please forgive me, Steve." 

"Course you're forgiven, Bucky."   
  
The machine sputtered. 

"God, this stuff is like crack." 

Steve laughed, reaching to turn off the machine. "Don't get up too soon, you'll get a head rush." 

"Seriously, I'm sorry Steve. You were just coming down from the shock and something possessed me when I saw you laying there." Bucky sat the mouthpiece aside and re-tied his hair. 

Everything that just happened flew out the window like a frightened bird trying to escape. Bucky's shirt rode up, revealing a smidge of his stomach. The way the coat sleeve fabric creased and highlighted his muscles as he lifted his arms looked _majestic_. 

What Bucky just said hit Steve in the face. Bucky enacted on the way _he looked_. Steve must had looked small, frail, and sickly looking. So Bucky took action like a mad man on a mission. A mission to care for him. _What does this all mean?_

Bucky broke Steve from his thoughts. 

"Now that we got that out of the way, what's up with you? You said the paramedics reminded you of something?" 

"They...did," Steve started out slow. "You remember when I came in the first time and had that asthma attack? Then again when I forgot to take my meds?" Bucky nodded. "It hadn't occurred to me until then that I came so close to being admitted to the hospital. Or worse." 

"Oh, Steve, sweetheart." Bucky sagged his shoulders with a frown on his face. "God, I feel even more horrible knowing that. I'm so sorry, again." 

Sweetheart? Did Bucky call him that before? 

_'Breathe this in, sweetheart.'_

Shit, he did.

Bucky shook his head. "Sorry, the pet name. My mom's slipping out on me," he said. "Has that been bothering you before today?" 

"Not exactly. But...well, okay yeah. Yeah, it has. I guess I've been trying to not think about it." 

"Have you ever been to therapy?" Bucky asked. "Because you could really benefit from it." 

With the doctor's he had in the past? Of course not. 

"I haven't, no." 

Bucky took a small pad and pen from his coat pocket. "Here, I know this guy personally and I think you'll like him. If you think my bedside manner is good, wait till you meet Bruce." 

Therapists aren't exactly like your run of the mill doctors. And the recommendation was coming straight from Bucky. "Really? Alright, I'll give him a call then." 

"Good." Bucky smiled. "Besides today, you been feeling well?" 

Their knees and shoulders were centimeters apart. They had enough room to spread out but neither of them made a move. 

"So far so good. I can sleep better but sometimes I'll wake up in the middle of the night on a bad day."   
  
"You'll get there, slow and steady makes the most of it." Bucky sighed, looking at the clock. "You ready to leave?"   
  
Steve sat up straighter. "We're done?" 

"We both had a rough day, I think we could both use some rest."  
  
Steve hummed with approval. "I won't argue with that." 

They walked up to reception and Steve checked out while Bucky went off near the front. He didn't get a hug, not like he felt the need to ask for one after what happened.

When Steve walked out, Pietro had the wheelchair ready but Bucky stopped him. "I'll take it from here." 

"Oh alright, Dr. Barnes," Pietro said, walking away. 

_Bucky wanted to lead him to his car himself?_

Steve raised a bow. "Don't you have patients to see?"   
  
Bucky pushed the wheelchair closer, gesturing for him to sit down. "I'm taking the rest of the day off. Think I deserve it." 

"Hm, that you do."   
  
They talked the entire time on the way to the parking garage. 

"Wait, you're a fan of baseball?" Bucky asked, Steve's car was a few feet from them.   
  
"Yeah, I'm a huge Dodgers fan. I still feel betrayed when they moved out to LA."   
  
"Seriously?" Bucky scoffed. "That was over fifty years ago, you weren't even born then." 

"Doesn't matter to me. I wish they would move back here in the heart of Brooklyn." 

"Alright Mr. I-wish-the-Dogers-would-come-crying-back-to-Brooklyn. We're here."   
  
Bucky lowered the brakes and parked the wheelchair next to Steve's car. He reached a hand out for Steve to take. 

"Thanks." Neither of them released their hands. Steve took that opportunity and wrapped his other arm around Bucky. 

"You're welcome, Steve." Bucky mirrored the gesture and pulled Steve closer. "Please, get some rest. And I'll keep repeating myself, I feel horrible about what I did."   
  
"Bucky, I said I forgave you." Steve snorted, unlocked his car while still in Bucky's arms. "I understand. Plus, you should rest too, you know."  
  
"Alright, I'll drop it." Bucky held the door open for Steve. "Drive safe."   
  
Steve stuck his tongue out. Bucky did the same. They exchanged smiles before going their own ways. 

Neither of them noticed the looming figure around the corner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: death mention, panic attack
> 
> \--  
> A little bit of a role reversal in this chapter near the end :D 
> 
> Ok but the Foo Fighters has some really good songs that screams Steve/Bucky. Like 'End over End' and 'Everlong' (duh, as Clint said)


	5. Truth Serum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello! I'm a day early from Friday cause I CANNOT WAIT ANY LONGER!  
> I wanted to split this chapter up SO BAD but it would've left you guys with a cliffhanger. And the things that happen during this chapter is too good to do that. 
> 
> Oh and look, another chapter has been added cause this thing has turned into a beast. Fun fact, I have the ending written and edited already but I keep adding onto the middle.
> 
> PS: I slipped a Supernatural reference somewhere, see if you can find it if you're a fan :)

During the following week, Steve slowly realized it became much easier to breathe. By Thursday he only used his rescue inhaler twice. One of those times barely even counted but he used it anyway. He remembered what Bucky told him. _Never hesitate if he suspected an oncoming attack._ Always remember to treat the mild beginning symptoms before it got worse. 

The days of gasping for breath in the middle of the night was long over. Humidifiers. A modern gadget, rained down from the heavens. He used all the money from a single commission to afford one, but totally worth every single penny. The version he got advertised to be allergen friendly. So far so good. 

He had a few flare ups here and there but for the most part, they were sporadic and nothing serious. Combined with naps in the evenings, fatigue became a thing of the past. No more dragging himself around, hanging on for dear life, or expecting a major trigger to blow up in his face. 

_Back in the Saddle_ by Aerosmith blasted from cheap stereo speakers in Sam's room. 

_I'm back in the saddle again. I'm back._

Steve pushed himself away from his desk, dropping the tablet pen aside. It'll probably roll off and he'd end up searching endlessly for it later on. 

"Sam," Steve yelled above the music, poking his head in Sam's room. "Could you turn it down?" 

"Nope!" Sam danced to and from in the small space. "Only way to grab your attention." 

Steve sighed. That was Sam's way of persuading him to do something. "What is it?"   
  
"You haven't had a full blown attack in a week." Sam finally turned the music off. One could only take so much Aerosmith, according to Steve. "If not longer." 

Beyond a short attack from the last appointment, he hadn't. And no, he didn't tell Sam about it. He kept the details brief. Only Sam knew Bucky referred him to a therapist. In which Steve called the following Monday. His first appointment with Bruce was in four days. 

"That's true." Steve crossed his arms, glancing at the clock. Seven fourteen. He should be tucked in bed within three hours. A healthy sleep schedule was beneficial for an asthmatic like himself. 

Sam gathered his coat off a chair, passing by Steve with a pat on his back. "Come on, we're celebrating." 

"For what?" Steve balked, following behind Sam, who entered his room. Sam shoved his coat in his face. "It's not like I've been officially deemed of having it under control." 

"No, but you deserve it. You work yourself too hard sometimes." Sam grabbed his keys, tossing an inhaler to Steve. Thanks to Bucky, nowadays he kept inhalers around every corner. Nightstand drawer, dresser drawer, kitchen cabinets, bathroom sink, the small bowl beside the door, everywhere. "My treat." 

Sam had his mind set. When that happened, Steve just goes with it. "Fine, where are we going? I don't wanna be gone for too long."   
  
"Coffee shop down the block. We shouldn't be gone for more than an hour at most. Heard they're new in town and they've got those jelly filled pastries with sugar on them," Sam said, opening the door. "I wanna get some, you know, for in the morning."   
  
Steve took his scarf off the rack, wrapping it around his neck. He could go for a hot chocolate. Much better than instant powder. "You're obsessed with pastries, you know."   
  
"Don't tell my personal trainer that!" Sam turned back with a yell. "Cheat day. Celebrating, remember?" 

They may as well just walked to the coffee shop instead. Honestly, it was only five minutes away. But the cold chilly air made Steve forget that thought. A warm car beat walking.

Oh, the sweet, sweet smell of coffee beans and fresh baked goods. A bell above the door dangled when they entered. 

"Welcome to Quantum Beans!" A man wiped the counter off with a towel. "I'm Scott, how may I help you guys tonight?"

Sam rubbed his hands together. Whether to get warm or with all the excitement for sugary pastries. _The pastries._ Sam had an eagles eye on the glass case. "You guys got those raspberry filled danishes?" 

"You're right on time. Hope just pulled a rack out half an hour ago." Scott took a paper bag from below the counter. 

"Oh-ho." Sam turned to Steve. "We are definitely staying for a minute cause I gotta eat one while they're hot and fresh." 

Steve tsked, shaking his head. "So much for saving them, huh?" He looked at Scott. "I'll take a small hot chocolate. Extra cream." 

"You got it." Scott tipped his head out of the backdoor kitchen. "Luis! Make your magic!" 

Luis yelled in the back. Something about a serum? _What?_ What sort of coffee shop did Sam discover? 

Sam thanked Scott for the pastries and paid. "Don't mind me, just gonna start digging in these." He sat at a booth in front of the door. 

Luis came out from the back. "One truth serum hot chocolate, extra cream." The paper cup pushed across the counter for Steve to take. 

"Truth...serum?" Steve lifted the cup to his mouth, sniffing it. This better not be poison. "What does that mean?" 

"So I'm in the basement of my mom's house, right? And there was this old vintage bag of chocolate. And you know, being me, I'm a huge fan of chocolate. I can't say no to it especially when it was still sealed. But anyway, anyway. I started mixing it with all sorts of sweet stuff. Powdered sugar, vanilla, more chocolate, and mixing cream and milk." 

Does this guy ever shut up? He talked a mile a minute. 

"Luis," Scott said. "Get to the point." 

"Right, right, right. Okay, so I tried it and it was really, really good. Like crazy fine good. And my friend called me up like, yo Luis where's that book I let you borrow three days ago? I didn't wanna tell him but the answer just blurted out of me like 'aw man sorry bro but I dropped the book down a drain gutter an hour after you gave it to me." 

Steve stared at Luis, blinking. He barely understood what Luis just said, the man talked so fast. He kept talking, on and on. Steve sipped at the drink. Still a little hot but Jesus take the wheel. What ingredients do they use in this? "Oh, damn. Pretty good. Amazing in fact." 

"Yeah, see! Truth serum." 

Steve shook his head and nodded off to both of them before joining Sam. 

Sam made an R-Rated moan into his pastry. "Ohw mah gawd." Crumbs littered his face, jacket, and the table. 

"That good?" Steve chuckled into his cup. 

"Starbucks _could never_." The pastry vanished into thin air. The rate Sam was going, there wouldn't be any pastries for the morning. 

The bell rang, Scott greeted them. 

Sam ranted about the pastry tasting of heaven. Meanwhile, Steve picked his head up and looked to the right. 

Red hair like no other, from what he'd seen on the occasion of checking in and out for each appointment. 

Doctor Natasha. 

Steve hid his face behind the cup. If Natasha was here, Bucky would be too, probably. Shit. He hadn't prepared for something like running into Bucky out in the wild, outside the office setting. What would he even say to Bucky? 

_'Truth serum!'_

Hot liquid slouched onto Steve's jacket, he squeezed the cup too hard. "Crap!" No, no, no. Shiiiiit. That grabbed Natasha's attention to turn around. 

"Careful, there." Natasha walked up with a handful of napkins from the condiment stand. "You alright?" 

Steve stuttered out his answer. "Me? Yeah, yeah. I'm totally fine. Just a spill, it'll come out in the wash." 

Natasha lingered, looking at Steve and hummed. "Hey, you that new patient of Dr. Barnes?"   
  
No.   
  
"Yes."   
  
Truth serum. What a myth. Who would believe in a stupid idea? 

"Knew you looked familiar," Natasha said. turning to get her order in. The space between the counter and their table wasn't much. 

Sam balked a laugh. "And I'm the man who discovered ya'll for this little guy here." 

"Oh, really? Good, glad you found us."   
  
No signs of Bucky around. Maybe Natasha came alone. If not, he still had time to dart out the door before being noticed. That, and he doesn't want his secret getting out for Natasha to hear. 

"Dang, 'Tasha you really love my truth serum hot chocolates don't you? Fifth time this week."   
  
Yep, he needed to get the hell out of here and never return. Pronto. It was getting late anyway. 

Sam turned in his chair to face Natasha. "Yeah, Steve here has told me all about how great ya'll are." He bit into another pastry. "Mm, Scott! I'll take two more to go."   
  
Sam _did not_ help him in this situation. Natasha eyed Steve with a large cup in her hands. Wait, why was she coming closer. Aw, shit. She sat next to Steve. Now he was trapped. 

Steve wrapped both hands around the cup, fingers shaking. Still no signs of Bucky. But that factor still didn't settle his nerves. Natasha was right next to him plus, Bucky could pop out of nowhere for all he knew. 

Natasha grinned with a sip. "Has Dr. Barnes been treating you well?" She made an appealing sound between another sip. "Don't mean to pry, doctor-patient confidentiality and all. But he's my best friend, so I like to check his homework every now and then." 

Steve's heart fluttered. The mental picture of Bucky appeared in his brain. "Fantastically well. In fact, he's the best doctor I've ever met, very understanding. Cares for me as no other did. I lo- I like him, like 'em a lot." 

_Freaking truth serum!_

Natasha had little to no emotion on her face, completely reserved, and in control. Sam, meanwhile, knew exactly what Steve slipped out. The look on his face said it all. 

"Not a day goes by without hearing patients praise his bedside mannerism." Natasha tapped the wooden table with her long, well-manicured fingernail. "I should probably get going, got a long day ahead of me tomorrow." 

Scott came over and handed Sam another bag of pastries. Sam whooped, peering inside the bag, giving Scott cash this time instead of card. "You're the man, Scott! Send my thanks to Hope." He stood up. "Good meeting your Doctor uh, Romanoff was it?" She nodded. "We should do the same and head on back." 

Yes. Good idea. Steve exited the booth soon as Natasha got up. 

"You too," Natasha said. "See you around Steve, tomorrow if we run into each other." 

Steve sputtered into his drink. "Uh-huh, see you." 

She left. Steve and Sam made it to the car. Good thing they drove because the air got even chillier since they left. 

"Notice your slip up back there." Sam pulled out the parking space.   
  
Steve _knew_ Sam did without even being verbal about it. "Yeah well, not like she knows."   
  
Sam turned the corner of their apartment. "You ever gonna do something about that or just keep hanging by a thread?"   
  
In the back of his mind, Steve started to suspect something was up with Bucky. With the way their appointments progressed, every one seemed different. But he still had no way of knowing if Bucky liked him back. Probably not. Hell, he doesn't even know if Bucky plays for the same team. 

"I don't want to talk about it." Steve drank the remaining hot chocolate. Ew, gross. The chalky bits on the bottom always taste horrible. Like the old, chalky childhood medicine he had to take when he got sick. 

Sam gripped the steering wheel with a sigh. "Listen, I'm just saying man-" 

"We're not having this conversation." The radio turned on. 

_She says we got to hold on for what we got. It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We've got each other and that's a lot for love. We'll give it a shot.  
  
_ "Alright fine, I'll back off. Besides, Bon Jovi rocks on occasion."

Steve stared out the window. What if Bucky did like him back? For a moment, he imagined it from a different perspective. If Bucky liked him back, what would that mean for their relationship? They're in a doctor slash patient relationship. How would they climb past the mountain and get to the other side? 

Steve only trusted Bucky when it came down to his health. Being together with Bucky sounded great but he wouldn't be Steve's doctor anymore if the truth came out. 

_'Truth serum'_ Get out of here, Luis.

_Oh, we've got to hold on, ready or not. You live for the fight when it's all that you've got. Woah, we're half way there. Woah, livin' on a prayer. Take my hand, we'll make it I swear._

Steve switched to another station. He needed to sleep, that'll help with his heartache. 

_I can't take it anymore. It's tearin' up my heart when I'm with you. But when we are apart, I feel it too. And no matter what I do, I feel the pain. With or without you._

Steve turned off the radio. 

* * *

When Steve got to the clinic, he didn't see Natasha at all. Maybe she was running late? But she said it was going to be a long day. Who knew. 

In contrast, the visits with Bucky _did_ seem like dates. They had to do medical related stuff often in between but they spent half the time just talking to each other. 

Once again today's appointment felt different for another odd reason. Every time Steve laid eyes on Bucky, his heart immediately quickened, fluttering like a butterfly. With anticipation, Steve couldn't wait to see what Bucky wore, he rotated his outfits frequently. 

A knock on the door. Bucky walked in with his usual white coat, floral dress shirt, slacks, and long hair pulled into a bun. Steve mentally shook his head. Calm down. Don't wander aimlessly, brain. 

"Well, if it isn't my favorite patient," Bucky said with a jaw dropping wink, making Steve's heart rate skyrocket. "You look good today, I can tell you've been getting plenty of rest at night." 

Bucky complimenting his appearance felt like an angel flying out the sky with a golden harp and Steve was the human needing rescuing. 

"Really? Well, I must be doing something right." 

"Mhm, and you're on a pretty high dosage so your meds are definitely doing their job." 

Bucky breezed right on through vitals while they talked, chatting about how the week had been, how many times Steve used his rescue inhaler and more.

For quite some time, Steve kept himself controlled. Until the lung exam.

Problem being, Bucky stood so _close_ when he listened to Steve's breathing. So close, the space between them was mere inches. Soft fingers brushed his chest, sparking a match in Steve. Now it became harder and harder to stay calm. His heart wouldn't stop its fast pace beating. 

As if staying calm as possible would be feasible. Impossibly not with the world's biggest pine Steve had on the greatest man he ever met. 

"M'kay, deep breath." Bucky wrapped an arm around the back of Steve's shoulders, holding him close and in place. Beneath Steve's sweater, Bucky's dominant hand guided the metal disc across his skin. 

Holy shit, Bucky didn't bother to hold up his shirt this time around. He put a bit more force into his hold. As if he didn't want to break away. 

_Thump, thump, thump._  
  
Steve's heart pounded in his chest. So audible, above the sound of his breathing in the small, quiet room. 

Bucky frowned, tipping his head to the side and took one earpiece out his ear. "Hearts beating faster than normal." He squeezed Steve's left shoulder. Always the left shoulder. "You feeling okay?" 

Oh god, oh god, oh god. Play it cool. Play it off as nerves or something. 

Sweat edges its way down Steve's neck. "Yeah, yeah totally. I'm fine just—" He cleared his throat. "Lost my spacer and forgot to tell you." 

Concern left Bucky's face. "Oh did you now?" Bucky released his hold, removing the stethoscope. Steve loved being held in Bucky's arms, the amount of affection he got was the most understatement of the century. "Just in luck, 'cause we got some new ones earlier this week." He stepped away to the door. "Lemme get you one. They've got a mask attachment with 'em too." 

Phew. Bucky bought it. Close one, Steve soon would run out of excuses. 

The clock ticked on by, making Steve fidget with impatience. How long does it take to get one lousy spacer? Did Bucky go to the end of the earth to find one? 

Well, he needed to go to the bathroom anyways. Might as well go now. Bucky's taking forever so they'll be even with each other if he got back before Steve. 

A female voice whisper yelled, coming from a door directly across the restroom. 

"I saw it, clear as day. You hate hugs aside from her and you haven't gotten close to anyone since that day." 

Natasha? Steve out to know better than get into other people's business. 

She continued. "Admit it. You've fallen for him and you've fallen hard." 

Steve stopped pushing the door open, he froze on the spot. 

A strained drown out sigh. "Fuck. I like him, okay? Goddamn it, I like Steve a lot and— Nat, no, no. I haven't done anything to him. I swear to you on my mother's grave. I'd never fucking do that." 

Whoa, wait, Bucky? _Bucky? Bucky said that!_

If Steve's heart pounded before, boy did it now. 

“I— I don’t know what to do cause it’s been driving me crazy since the first appointment.” Was he _crying?_ “I’ve never met someone more beautiful with an amazing personality.” 

Bucky liked him back. Steve hadn't been crazy all this time. It wasn't a fantasy. Real. Actual real feelings were between them. Mutual feelings. 

“I gotta get back to him,” Bucky sniffled another sigh. “Just came for a damn spacer, not an honesty hour.” 

Run. He should run back. Instead, Steve locked himself in the bathroom. Staring into the mirror, he gasped. Red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. When had he started crying? 

Steve carded through his hair, tousling and tugging a portion into a fist. Shit, he needed to keep his breathing down. Pacing in circles wouldn't help.  
  
"Oh, God." He wiped a hand over his face. More tears. With a handful of paper towels, he ran them under the sink then wiped away his own tears. "What do I do?" He looked at the door. "What do _we_ do?"

No one had ever loved Steve before. He lived a nonexistent love life. Peggy had been the only person he pictured himself with. But that was a teenage fantasy of his. This right here? One hundred percent authentic. His love for Bucky was real and apparently so was Bucky's. 

Steve hadn't ever kissed a guy. Any kisses with a few girls almost didn't count to him, they were so brief without thought. He realized his bisexuality at the ripe old age of fourteen. Knowing Bucky liked him back made it all real. 

The shock of finding out this way was like whiplash. Since day one he expected heartache.

But no. 

_Bucky liked Steve, Bucky liked Steve, Bucky liked Steve._

It kept repeating in his head like a mantra.  
  
What the hell were they supposed to do? What was the next step? If only they had met in any other situation. The glaring issue arose. Steve clung attached to Bucky, the only doctor he ever trusted. Natasha could be an option if they ever did start dating. But Steve doesn't know her enough, not like Bucky. 

Like the coffee shop, he felt the need to leave, stat. If he said anything now, Lord knows he'd mess up and everything they had going between them would turn to dust. He'd go home and take a long hard look with himself. Think, just him and his brain alone together. 

Short legs put one in front of the other, Steve sprinted across the hall, fast as he could. Forget the bathroom break. 

The door to the exam room left wide open. Steve shut it before leaving. Bucky returned before he did. Because Steve held himself in the bathroom and became a crying mess. Well, that made the two of them. 

"Hey," Bucky said, rolling back and forth on the stool. He too looked like he'd been crying. Steve knew that already though. _He heard him._ "I wondered where you went off to." 

Steve took the offered spacer. "Um, I got a call so I went out back. Actually uh, I gotta run cause they need me at work. Something about a spill or the like on an upcoming release." A complete and total lie. They don't use real paint at his work, they use digital. 

Bucky stood, looking skeptical but nodded anyway. Their distance between each other was thin as a tightrope. "Ah, okay. I understand. Here, I'll walk you out." A squeeze to the left shoulder. "You've improved a lot these past couple weeks." 

It hit Steve again. A crashing tidal wave, all wet with sand mixed in. 

James B. Barnes, a doctor with an MD, liked him, Steven G. Rogers, a patient.

Steve floated on some other realm when Bucky hugged him. One tight embrace, buried in Bucky's arms and head pressed to his chest. God, Bucky smelled amazing. _Felt_ amazing.

"It was good seeing you again, Steve." Bucky's warm breath whispered against the shell of Steve's ear. _Whispered._

"Good seeing you too." Steve suppressed a full body shiver. 

No more hiding. He had to come clean with Bucky. Neither of them could go on like this forever. 

But not today. Next week. When Steve had a clear head. 

* * *

The following week dragged on what felt close to a month. Hiding the new secret about Bucky liking him wasn't feasible with Sam. Steve told him, and it wasn't pretty. 

"Steve, you have got to do something about this." Breakfast turned to a plateful of danishes instead of eggs and bacon for Sam. "I've been telling you and you wouldn't listen. You're both suffering, so say something, do something." 

Steve sighed. His appetite left him half an hour ago. "I know, I know. The next visit, I'll— I'll come up with a plan." 

"Good or I'll drag you over there so you'll both talk." 

Friday came around. A delightful feeling, yet anxious. Before heading to the practice, Steve made a quick stop. 

'Truth serum' hot chocolate. Maybe he doesn't really believe in the tale, but right now he does. On the way to the clinic, he drank the entire thing before getting there. Another sat in the center console cup holder. 

In a way, Steve regretted not buying one for everyone because Clint and Pietro both eyed the cup in his hands. But that wasn't what it was for. He had a mission to complete. 

"You got me a hot chocolate?" Bucky took a sip. "Damn that's good. Thanks, that's very kind of you, Steve." 

Steve wanted to scoff at his vitals being taken. They always came out normal. They've got bigger dying issues to attend. Steve might need to pull out his rescue inhaler because Bucky literally took his breath away. Like always. 

Hands everywhere, Bucky wouldn't settle for one spot and stay there during the lung exam. "Deep breath for me." For _me?_

_A breath._

Tap on his shoulder. "Again."   
  
_Another breath._  
  
"One more, hard as you can."

_An ever so deep breath._

"Steve." Bucky broke into a smile, clutching the stethoscope to his neck. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I don't hear any rattles." 

Steve parted his mouth. "You— what?" He wanted to get on with the whole, 'I really like you' spiral but that caught him off guard. 

"Your lungs are crystal clear," Bucky reiterated. "Our treatment plan worked." 

Clear lungs. Not crackles or rattling of any sort. 

Laughter overtook Steve. "God, I can't even wrap my head wrong that." For once in his lifetime, his asthma was under control. All thanks to the amazing doctor who _he was in love with and the guy liked him back._

Bucky reached into his coat pocket. "Well, I didn't plan for it to work out like this but seems like it settled in my favor." He pulled out a small, rectangle shaped paper. 

Steve felt like a deer in headlights. "Whoa, don't pass out. Especially don't pass out when you meet her." 

_The book tour_! Which was literally tomorrow, because he put it out of his mind once he knew he couldn't go.  
  
But now he can. Bucky thought of him by getting him a ticket. How the hell did he even acquire one?

"Bucky I— I have no idea what to say." 

"That's okay, I sprung it on you on short noticed." That look in Bucky's eye. Was that love? "My sister just so happened to have an extra ticket since a friend dropped out. And I knew how much her books mean to you. Plus after everything you've been through, you've earned it." 

Now or never. 

"Bucky, I can't do this—" he choked, voice wavering. He pocketed the ticket, not wanting it to get ruined. 

Bucky tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Huh? Thought you wanted to meet her." 

"No, this." Steve waved a finger between them. "Us. I'm tired of hiding it."  
  
Bucky surged forward for what little space there was between them. A warm hand gently cupped Steve's jaw, angling his face upward. Bucky's thumb brushed against his cheekbones as soft lips placed on the other. 

Steve slipped his eyes shut with a moan, sighing into the kiss. Bucky's lips were so soft, so perfect, with a taste of chocolate. They parted for a moment before deepening the kiss. Without a doubt the best, most passionate kiss Steve ever had. 

After separating, they held onto each other. Steve felt Bucky's warm breath against his lips, their foreheads rested on one another. 

"God, I've wanted to do that for over a month." Bucky brought his hands lower, brushing his fingers back and forth over Steve's sides. "But Steve, I'm your doctor." 

Steve gripped Bucky's coat lapel, never wanting to let go. "We can work it out. I know we can. Plenty of couples met this way and started dating." 

A whine escaped Bucky's lips. "Yeah, but the patients weren't patients anymore," he said, pecking a small kiss to Steve's forehead. "Steve, you have no idea how much I want you. Since the very first day we met, I had my heart set on you." Another kiss. "We can't date and be in this kind of environment, I'm sorry. I— I've already crossed a line. I'm emotionally compromised, my license will be suspended if this gets out, cause if everyone knows we're together and I'm your legal doctor." 

It hurt to hear Bucky say that. Steve blinked the tears away, he had no time for them. 

Courage. Steve would need the courage to stay strong. His asthma was under control. _Holy crap his asthma was under control, like for real._ But Bucky's practice had been good to him. Most of all, _everyone_ was kind to Steve. And Natasha...Natasha wasn't half bad, he had to admit. He'd warm up to her. 

Steve heaved a deep breath, feeling the exhale in his belly. "Sorry, I don't know of a Dr. Barnes. All I know is _Bucky_." He tapped a finger over Bucky's heart. "Who said you're still my doctor anyway, huh?" 

Bucky smiled, darting down to press another kiss to Steve's parted lips. "Christ, I didn't think I could love you even more." He looked deep into Steve's eyes, searching. "So you're okay with that? Also, not gonna lie, even if you still wanted me as your doctor we couldn't. I tried easing you down but you did it for me instead. In fact, I envisioned you kicking and screaming about it. Because lately, you've been rather...attached."  
  
"Oh, I'm attached all right." Steve entwined his hand with Bucky's. "Attached to you." He sighed. "Though I will miss you being my doctor." 

"Now I'll throw you a curve ball. Who said I still wouldn't be? I'll be your caretaker, be there by your side when you're down with something." 

Steve would die for this man, no doubt about it. "You're incredible, know that?" 

"And same to you, sweetheart." 

"I remember when you slipped that out a couple weeks ago." Steve laughed at the memory. When he thought himself as crazy. Real. It was real. They should go on a date. "Oh!"   
  
Bucky pulled away an inch at Steve's sudden outburst. "What is it? And yeah, I did. Surprised you didn't say anything." 

"Come to the book tour with me!" Steve tugged Bucky's dress shirt, like a child wanting their way. "Call it a date."   
  
Bucky sighed with a whine. "I've got a meeting at the hospital." He gave in to Steve's puppy dog eyes. "But they can wait cause I've gotta take my best guy to meet his idol." 

Steve kissed Bucky like there was no tomorrow. "Thank you. Oh my god, thank you, Bucky. I can't wait."   
  
They parted from each other. Had to eventually. "As much as I'd like for you to stay, I've got patients to be with."   
  
With his tiptoes, Steve held himself up with Bucky's shoulders and planted yet another kiss to his lips. "Don't apologize to me. Go be the incredible doctor that you are." 

They held hands on the way to the front desk. "Clint, do me a favor and go into Steve's file and transfer him to Nat's care." 

Clint raised a bow. "Uh, excuse me? What was that? Sorry, hearing aid needs to be turned up." He faked turning them up. "There we go."   
  
Bucky raised their entwined hands. "I'm a little compromised here." 

Clint swiveled his chair over the side. "Pietro! You owe me fifty!" Pietro groaned behind a shelf. 

Steve laughed while Bucky balked. "You bet on us?" Bucky shook his head. "I leave you two for five minutes and you come up with even more schemes." 

"Hey, saying of Natasha, where is she?" Steve said, looking around the back. No one but Pietro, Clint, and a few others were back there. "Feel like I should introduce myself properly."   
  
Clint typed away on the keyboard. "To get hot chocolate cause everyone was jealous when you brought only one in." 

"Aw, yeah, sorry." Bucky tugged his hand, motioning to follow him around the corner. 

He wanted to talk in private. To say the least, Steve's heart quickened out of worry. 

"What is it, Buck?"   
  
"I— Christ." Bucky tipped his head forward with a huff. "Did you seriously just come up with a nickname for my nickname?" 

Steve grinned, satisfied. "Sure did, now what did you want to talk about?" 

Bucky took a moment to think. "Oh, right! You're distracting me again, you're good at by the way. Anyway, I just wanna make sure you're okay with Nat being your doctor. She's not as soft as I am but she means well."   
  
Steve squeezed Bucky's hand. "Long as you'll be by my side, I'm good. Besides, I've met Natasha already."   
  
Bucky's eyes bulged out. "When?"   
  
"Coffee shop, last week." He shrugged. "Ran into each other, said she was 'checking up on your homework.'" 

"Oh, I'm gonna kill her." Bucky gripped a nearby doorknob with his other hand. 

"It's fine. Long as we're okay, it'll always be fine."   
  
They told each other the last five kisses were goodbye kisses. Maybe an extra two more for the road. One more for a pitt stop. 

Steve sat in his car, still parked in the parking lot. No way would he drive back home without getting everything off his chest. 

Sam picked up. "Please tell me you're not experiencing heartbreak right now. No don't tell me, I don't think I can handle it and I haven't even met the guy." 

Never with Bucky. "Quite the opposite actually. More like, heart stricken." Steve bounced his feet below the floor board. Excitement not contained. "Sam, we're...we're going on a date! Even got his actual number."   
  
Steve pulled the phone away from his ear. Sam yelled so loud, he still heard him an arms length away. "Wait— wait— wait. What does this mean about the whole doctor situation?" 

"Remember Dr. Romanoff, Natasha? Got her as my doctor now. And before you say it, no, I'm good, Bucky will be there so everything's fine by me." 

Sam hollered with more joy. "Regretting you didn't do that before now?"   
  
"No, cause if I did I'm not sure I would have tickets to Peggy's meet and greet."   
  
The phone may as well be on speaker. "What the hell did you just say?"   
  
"Bucky got me a ticket." And they had a date planned. "So you know, our first date might look a little like that."   
  
"I'm buying the entire stock of Scott's coffee shop. We're celebrating for real this time." 

"And Sam?"   
  
"Yeah, Steve?"  
  
"My lungs are clear."   
  
More joyful yelling. What a great day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT WEEK: PEGGY'S BOOK TOUR + THEIR FIRST DATE AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH I'm so excited for them.


	6. Boyfriends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MADE MYSELF HUNGRY FROM THIS CHAPTER. Also fixed the problem of the Bucky manip showing up for every chapter. 
> 
> We've got one more chapter to go then it's the end. :( But wait!! There's more!! I've turned this fic into a series. I've got a oneshot done already and I have at LEAST two more to write. Not sure if I'd make a sequel cause I have no idea what the plot would be. Prompts, ideas?? I'm all ears. I love this universe. 
> 
> BUT ALSO I'm planning on writing /another/ Hospital AU after this. Featuring Doctor!Steve and Nurse!Bucky where they both work at the same pediatric ward. It's gonna end up being a domestic kidfic probably.

A text came in around eight on Saturday morning. The last twelve hours had Steve shaking in excitement. Either about meeting Peggy or going on a date with Bucky. Both probably to be fair. More than anything, Steve was over the moon. 

_'I wanna take you out on a real date, you deserve it. So let's have dinner before the meet and greet starts. Then we can see a movie afterward. How does that sound? :)'_

By the suns and stars. Steve hit ten karat gold. 

_'Bucky!! That sounds amazing! I'm impatient enough, you're gonna kill me before the end of the day.'_

A reply came back immediately. 

_'Aw but sweetheart, you look so cute when you're all excited. I like seeing you happy.'_

Steve grinned like an idiot in love while staring at his phone screen. Because he was.

_'Stop, you're making me blush. It's too early for that. Now Sam will ask me a dozen questions when I get up for breakfast.'_

The phone almost came crashing down on his face at Bucky's next reply. 

_'Speaking of which, I can't wait to meet him when I pick you up later today.'_

Bucky would pick him up _and_ he wanted to meet Sam? Steve's ma would be so proud. 

_'You're such a gentleman, Buck.'_

This was going to be a long but best day ever. He knew it had to be. 

Out of everything in Steve's small closet, you'd think he had better outfits than the same old boring jeans and sweater combo. In the very back, a few ratty t-shirts covered in paint clearly need to be thrown out. Definitely not first date outfit material. 

After breakfast, Sam came up with another excuse to get more pastries because _clearly_ he was addicted. So Steve took that opportunity and browsed around the clothing store next door. 

An hour of shopping and a pastry run later, the perfect outfit sat on Steve's bed. A lilac button down with brown suspenders, matching some nice quality dark jeans. Plus a gray checkered bowtie and a long cream coat to throw it all together.

The doorbell rang right at five o'clock sharp. Exactly two hours before the meet and greet. At the entryway, Steve checked himself out in the wall mirror and straightened a loose strand of hair before opening the door. 

A melting candle was what Steve felt like. It occurred to him all a sudden. Like an imaginary brick thrown at his face. This was the first time seeing Bucky outside the office. He looked different without scrubs and the white coat. His well trimmed beard corresponded with styled hair pulled into a bun next to a side braid. Bucky wore black skinny jeans, a red leather jacket thrown over a cashmere turtleneck sweater.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, a single arm raised above his head. 

Gorgeous and hot at the same time.

"Wow, Bucky. You um." Steve faltered to speak clearly, cheeks threatening to blush at the sight of Bucky dressed and posing so stunning. "You look great."   
  
A full faced smile washed over Bucky. "Thank you. Mind I say the same for yourself in fact." He leaned forward, his other arm tucked behind his back. "May I come in?"   
  
Steve stepped aside to let Bucky through. "Course, Buck." 

"Listen, I know it's not chocolate or anything but I wanted to give you this." A keychain, fabric in the shape of an inhaler. All red, white, and blue with a silver star patch in the middle. An inhaler holster. "You've shown me some of your comics and well, I couldn't pass on buying it. The gift shop's on the way to my morning rounds and they had it in the display window so I thought, 'Steve would like this.' Even attached the little star patch myself." 

Steve took it, feeling the soft fabric. "What, really? Bucky, this is far better than some dumb old chocolate I won't finish." He clipped it to his jeans belt loop, off the side. "Best gift ever in my book." 

Bucky pecked Steve on the cheek. "Good, I'm glad you like it. Now, where's your friend?"   
  
Steve mumbled under his breath as he tugged Bucky toward the kitchen. "This is just like meeting the parents." 

"The man, the myth, the legend!" Sam shook Bucky's offered hand "Nice to meet you, _Dr. Barnes_." 

"No," Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes. "Please, it's Bucky." 

Steve laughed. "He's just messing with you." 

"Man Steve, when you said he was good looking, you forgot to mention he's on the level of Leonardo Dicaprio good looking." 

Now it was Steve's turn to groan. "Alright! You know what, we better get going before you embarrass me further." 

Bucky patted Steve's back. "You know, I could stay for like twenty minutes, sit down and have a chat about—" He got a soft elbow jab to the stomach. "Okay," he chuckled. "Gotta get this guy some dinner before his big moment." 

An excited shiver rolled through Steve's spine. "Let's hope I can get through dinner." His and Bucky's hands entwined together. "I won't have an appetite at this rate, barely had one during the day." 

Bucky tapped the side of Steve's hand with his thumb. "You'll make it through." 

"Ya'll have a good time," Sam said, waving them off down the hall. "Get home before the street lights turn on!" He got a kitchen towel thrown over his head. A dirty one. Because it was the closest Steve could reach. 

* * *

If Bucky's outfits alone gave Steve the indication that he was loaded with money, his silver SUV said it all. Customized interior, heated seats, and everything. But one thing threw Steve off. 

Steve took in the backseat's layout. The seats were down. "You have an inflatable mattress in the back?" 

The car hummed to life. "Oh," Bucky said, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Forgot to remove it. Clint and I go to the drive in theater on occasion." He shrugged when Steve gave him a look. "Beats the hard floor or being cramped up front." 

"Interesting." Steve glanced out the window, he normally wouldn't drive through these streets. Bucky must be taking them somewhere he doesn't know. "Where are we going, anyway?" 

"Hope you don't mind but I was thinking of a more down to earth, quiet place that serves pretty much anything you can think of." 

"Sounds great, Buck. I don't mind. Hell, I'd be excited to just get a hot dog from a food truck but that works for me." 

Bucky piqued interest from Steve's mention of hot dogs. "You like hot dogs too?"   
  
"Sure do," Steve said. The radio played a soft quiet tune in the background. 

_Glory of love, give it to me now, glory of love see you through._

_Oh, my Coney Island baby, now._

_I'm a Coney Island baby, now._

Bucky peered over to Steve. "We should go to Coney Island for our next date."

Talk of a second date already? Steve felt like the luckiest man alive to find himself merely sitting in Bucky's car let alone _another date._ "Seriously? I'd love that." 

When they got to the small diner-style restaurant, Bucky put an arm around Steve, holding him close while waiting to be seated. 

A hostess led them to a booth in the far back. Bucky scooted to the end, he patted the empty space. "Sit next to me?" 

Steve followed Bucky's lead and sat beside him. "Without a doubt in my mind." Sitting next to Bucky, hugging Bucky, probably _cuddling_ Bucky will always be an open opportunity to Steve. 

They shared a menu together and read through it. It had an assortment of appetizers, main courses, and a few select desserts.

"Order anything you want, sweetheart." Bucky kissed the top of Steve's head. "But I think I'll get a steak with a side of roasted vegetables." 

The pet name sparked a match. Butterflies returned to Steve's stomach like all those times during the appointments. Back when neither of them had been upfront about their feelings. When he suppressed those feelings at times, thinking they weren't mutual. But these were happy butterflies. They were honest with each other and were dating after all. The memory fizzled on a fond note. 

"The chicken piccata looks good," Steve said. "Think I'll get that." 

The waitress came by and took their order. Bucky settled an arm over Steve's shoulders, massaging into the flesh of his left arm. "You ready to meet her?"   
  
Steve nearly choked on his water. "Hell no." Never. The fact he would be in line about a half an hour from now seemed unreal. Sure, he wanted tickets before but the true excitement hadn't settled until the clock struck the finish line. "I'd like to get through dinner first rather than, well...talk about it." A mix of hunger and nervousness settled like lead in his stomach. 

"Sorry, just trying to get into the flow of conversation." More massages. Damn, that felt good. "It's funny really. We talked so much during the visits for a month and yet, I'm a fumbling mess right now." Bucky rubbed the back of his neck.   
  
Steve shrugged, settling into Bucky's side. "Think it's just the sudden change, a new unfamiliar environment. Also for the longest time, I could'a swore you didn't like me back."   
  
"Me too. God, just thinking back." Bucky shifted and settled into a more comfortable position. "Thought I was going crazy, lusting over a patient. On your first visit, I wanted to refer you to someone else. Like Natasha. But you were just— so afraid and I knew I had to help you. If not I was afraid you'd run off and you weren't in any condition to wait any longer." 

It was true. If it had gone any other way, the lingering thought sure would had crossed his mind. 

"You're so sweet, Buck," Steve sighed. "But those first few visits were..." Scary at its core but breathtaking at its heart. "Something else." 

"Yeah, but look where you are now." Bucky smiled down at Steve. "Your asthma is under control, Nat's your doctor, and most of all, we're together now." 

Steve squeezed Bucky's knee and grinned. "Thank you for that, for getting me back on track." He lowered his voice so only he and Bucky could hear. "I like you, like a lot."   
  
Bucky whispered next to Steve's ear. "I really like you too." 

Their food arrived minutes after they talked some more, going from one topic to the next. Steve's chicken piccata had a sweet but subtle lemony taste to it. 

Bucky moaned into his first bite of steak. Steve jerked his head up at the sound. "Sorry, that." He pointed at the juicy slice of meat. "Is incredible." 

"Not as incredible as me?" Steve joked, pushing a couple of capers around his plate.

Bucky frowned, turning serious all a sudden. "No, no," Steve laughed, Bucky looked so cute when flustered. "Joking, Buck." Bucky relaxed his shoulders and mumbled a 'punk' between another bite. 

For dessert, Bucky ordered them a chocolate drizzled brownie topped with ice cream to share. With whip cream and all, fully loaded with a touch of caramel. 

When it arrived, only one spoon was provided. Yet, Bucky didn't question it. Or even made the move to ask for another.   
  
Steve's mouth watered as Bucky dipped the spoon deep into the gooey dessert. Chocolate oozed out, the ice cream melted down the sides. Decadent cake like flakiness. 

Bucky lifted the spoon up. "The one with confirmed clear lungs gets the first bite." Steve parted his mouth, remembering this exact moment happening multiple times in a totally different fashion.   
  
_This was different._

_Intimate._

Steve wrapped his lips around the spoon, eyes never breaking from Bucky. Sweet, chocolatey flavor. 

Bucky brushed a smear of chocolate off the corner of Steve's lips with his thumb. He licked his thumb. "Sweetheart, you sure are something." 

Steve restrained himself from moaning out loud. "Right back at you."

Finishing up and Bucky paying, they left the restaurant and made their way to the bookstore. 

The bookstore.

Where Peggy will be.

Steve was going to meet Peggy.

Peggy, his idol of ten plus years.

Bucky, his former doctor, now date-slash possible boyfriend, gave him a ticket. 

They were in the parking lot far quicker than Steve thought it'd take to get across town. 

Steve clutched at the passenger side door handle. "Why am I—" He wiped a hand over his forehead. "Shit, I'm sweating already."

Bucky turned the car off and unbuckled himself, moving forward, closer to Steve. "Try and think of it as meeting anybody, like a random person off the street."   
  
"I dunno—"   
  
"Would a kiss help?" 

Steve jerked his head up and stared into Bucky's eyes. "Maybe."   
  
Bucky leaned over, past the center console, and cupped Steve's face with one hand. Another hand on the back of Steve's head, he pressed a kiss to his soft lips. Bucky dragged it on for a long slow moment. They parted for a second, then Bucky dived back in with a deep, hard kiss, making Steve moan. 

"How was that?" Bucky carded his fingers through Steve's hair. 

Holy hell. Intoxicating and marvelous. Was it possible to be drunk in love? They hadn't even taken it but so far. Bucky knew _exactly_ what he was doing. He led and Steve followed. 

"Shit," Steve sighed, resting his forehead on Bucky's. "God, I uh— amazing. Yeah, I have no words."   
  
Bucky rumbled with quiet laughter. "You're adorable, sweetheart." 

They made out some more to pass the time before going inside. To say the least, the bookstore had enough people to be considered a small army. 

Bucky huddled himself right into Steve's side, never letting go of his hand, not for a second. The protective gesture ignited something new in his heart. A burning passion. Care, protectiveness, and _love_.

The bookstore had a curtain set up, so any and everybody wasn't able to come around and snap photos of Peggy or anything. Although the large bookstore was large, the line wrapped around half the store. But the staff officials had it under control and organized. 

When they got up to the curtain's entrance, a handler shook their head, saying that anyone without a ticket wasn't allowed back unless they were a minor. 

Steve contemplated not going at all if meant Bucky wouldn't be by his side. But screw that. He could be strong. And finally, meet Peggy. He waited for this moment for so long and it was minutes away. 

"You'll be okay, Stevie," Bucky said, slipping his hand away. "I'll go to the cafe and get a drink for you afterward." 

Stevie. It took a moment for that name to settle. He liked it. 

Steve held the framed artwork he brought for Peggy to sign, close to his chest. "Alright. See you in a bit, Buck." 

Excitement to its full potential hadn't hit Steve until he came closer and closer to his turn. Peggy sat just a short few feet away from where he stood in line. A longtime wish finally came true, all thanks to Bucky. 

His moment, _his_. Three steps away, Peggy was in his sight. She’s gorgeous, curly hair framing her rosy cheeks and a blue button down complimenting her eyes. Her iconic hat she wore sat off the side. 

A handler ushered him forward. Thousands of butterflies flew in the pit of Steve’s stomach. 

Peggy’s lovely smile focused on Steve. “Hi, how are you?” 

Yup, definitely the second person to choke him up in the past month. Steve breathed slowly, remembering to do the breathing exercises Bucky taught him long before. Who was also here with him, in the same building. Today turned out to be unreal. He'd never fathom the thought of any of this happening four months ago. 

“Good, thank you,” Steve said, giving Peggy the framed artwork sign. “Your books mean so much to me. I’ve watched your work grow in the past ten years. It’s incredible how far you've come.”

Peggy’s eyes never left Steve, taking everything he said word for word. “Thank you. It touches me every time someone says that,” she said. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Steve.” Peggy looked stunning up close. Crazy how a two dimensional photo could look vastly different in real life. 

Peggy signed the frame with a red marker. “How lovely it is to meet you, Steve.” She focused back on Steve. “This is really good, did you draw it?”

Did Peggy just compliment _his art?_ The one and only Peggy Carter? Better not pass out, better not pass out. Well, if he does, Bucky would save him. 

“I did. It's part of a series I’ve been working on in the past couple of years.” Way to go Rogers. Not choking up on a single sentence. 

“You’ve got a unique art style,” Peggy said, giving the artwork back to Steve. “I like it.” 

Steve could fall to his knees and cry, he blushed hard as a beet. “Oh jeez, wow, um— thank you so much.” 

Peggy focused on Steve once more. "Anytime darling, I'm sure you'll get published someday soon." 

Steve wanted to say more, he tried to, but a whimpered squeak was all that came out. Composure lasted as long as it dared. Least he succeeded in the end. He made it through without fumbling the whole time like he thought he would. 

Still high on a starstruck daze, Steve never noticed a person sneezing directly on him when he exited the autograph area. Amongst the loud chatter of the bookstore, he missed the woman's cursed apology. 

Searching for Bucky didn't take long. He sat in front of the cafe's entrance, a table beside the window. With two lidded paper cups off the side. 

"Whoa, you're shaking, pal," Bucky said, eyeing Steve from head to toe. "Come sit down." 

Chair legs scraped against hardwood. "I'm shaking? Am I really shaking?" Steve wiped a hand over his face. "Aw man— well least I didn't start during the autograph." 

Bucky moved the cup closer to Steve's side of the table. "Take a sip, might help you relax." 

"Ew." Steve puckered his face. "Nothing like Scott's— or Luis I should say." 

Bucky laughed among a low murmur. "No, but it's the sentiment that counts. How'd it go?" 

So fast, too fast but everything he ever asked for. "She liked my art! Like she really, genuinely liked it." He held the signed painting up. It was the first artwork he showed Bucky from their second appointment. 

One day, he'd get published some way or another. His Captain America series might be a flop, might be a hit. But at the end of the day, all he cared about was that Peggy liked it. 

Steve kept going on, retelling his story over and over about his interaction with Peggy. Bucky paid close attention the whole time, interest evident on his face. "That's great, Stevie! And look, that drink is working. You look better already." 

As a matter of fact, he did feel better. After practically shouting the story from the rooftops. "Oh hey, wasn't your sister coming?" 

Bucky threw his half-full cup away, evidently, he didn't like it very much. Unlike Steve who spoke up about it. "Yeah, she came alright. Sick as a dog, I met her right when I got the drinks."   
  
"Ah, too bad. Would've liked to meet her and get even with you with Sam." 

Bucky clasped his hand with Steve's across the table. "I'd love that. When she's well. Cause we don't need you getting sick." 

They left the bookstore hand in hand, huddled together for warmth beneath the chilly night air. 

The air mattress in the backseat gave Steve an idea. "Why don't we go to that drive-in you talked about instead of a crowded theater?"   
  
"Anything for you, Stevie." 

* * *

Who would've thought, going to a drive in theater with his date slash boyfriend after meeting his idol. Look at him now. The Steve from four months ago with crappy lungs would never believe it. The tables turned in his favor. For breathing, and love. 

Wait.

_Was Bucky even his boyfriend?_

Steve wanted him to be his boyfriend, desperately so. He knew the guy for over a month but under vastly different circumstances. Tonight was their first date, a long one at that. First dinner at the restaurant, then the meet and greet, and now a movie. 

In a goddamn fancy car with an air mattress in the back.

Steve wasn't complaining. Hell, he suggested using it and Bucky went along with it, happy as can be. 

Bucky paid and drove through the lot, parking around the middle but not too close from the back. He turned the radio to the specific station provided by the theater. 

It was a run of the mill mystery thriller, something about a man finding encoded messages listing major disasters in the last five decades. Bla, bla, bla, more future calamities, and a global cataclysm. End of the world type movie that lasted for a little over three hours. 

The popcorn Bucky bought sat in the center console. His fingers brushed Bucky's when they both reached in at the same time. Neither of them paid much attention to the movie after the first hour. Soon, Bucky's hand slipped over to his thigh, rubbing against the smooth fabric of his jeans. 

Bucky leaned over, crowding into his seat, hot breath against his neck. "Wanna get more comfortable in the back, sweetheart?" 

Thank god the windows were tinted. 

"Sure, Buck."   
  
One great thing about having a small body, Steve easily maneuvered himself from the front to the back. Bucky, not so much. He bumped his head on the roof with a brief curse, then a leg got tangled between the seat and center console, making him fall straight forward over Steve. 

Bucky laughed it off, sorting his hair back to its rightful place behind his ears. "Much be nice, bein' small and all." 

Sometimes. In this case, absolutely, two hundred percent. "It has its perks from time to time." Steve licked his lips, staring right into Bucky's blue glimmering eyes. Lately, the space between them became almost nonexistent. Right now was like no other, legs pressed against each other, chests inches away from making contact. 

"Can I kiss you?"

Steve responded by pulling Bucky all the way down, meeting his already parted lips. Bucky took control and led, pressing his soft lips firm against Steve's then sucking on Steve's bottom lip. The noise coming out of Steve's mouth sounded between a broken gasp and a moan. 

Steve grasped a portion of Bucky's turtleneck sweater with one hand, another coming to sling over his neck. He lifted his face, turning to the side to get a better angle, deepening the kiss. Bucky cradled Steve's head, the faint touch of a thumb brushing over his lower jaw. 

It got intense quick, pulling Steve out his lust filled mind. No doubt in his mind, Bucky had experience, far better than himself. Which frightened him just a bit. Because well, no experience with the opposite team members. 

"Buck," Steve moaned out, parting away. "Let's slow it down, I—" He breathed a shaky breath. "We should talk. I need to tell you something." 

Bucky rested his elbows by Steve's sides, splaying his legs all the way out to plant himself directly on top of Steve. Trapped, but in a good way. "What is it, doll?" 

Cheeks reddened at the pet name. He said them with such sweet care. "Well first off, never stop calling me that or the other names cause I love it. But what I wanted to say," he cleared his throat. "I don't have any experience...with men." He needed to come clean while they were on the subject too. "I'm bisexual." 

Bucky brushed a finger through Steve's hair with a smile, tucking the same pesky loose portion that Steve fights with throughout the day. "Babydoll, that's perfectly alright with me. And I'd still want you whether you were gay, pan, trans, asexual, or any of the above or more. I just want you."   
  
_I just want you._

Steve wiped a tear away but then gave up as more pooled around the bottom lids. "You're really sweet, you know that?" 

"Sweet as candy, huh?" Bucky pecked a light kiss to Steve's nose. "But seriously, it's okay. I'm gay, fooled around throughout the years before," he grunted with a swallow, shaking his head. "Before the accident, so I'm rusty myself. We're in this together, alright?" 

Steve entwined a hand with Bucky's, squeezing. "Together." 

Bucky darted down to resume their make out session but got interrupted, shaking them both out of their haze of lust. 

Steve jolted, wide eyes searching Bucky's face as fast taps knocked against the driver seat window. "Who the hell is that?" 

Bucky raised himself up with a groan, seemingly not alarmed. He rolled the window down, leaning over the driver's seat. "The fuck do you want?" 

Throughout the dark, the dashboard glow highlighted a man's face. "Change for a twenty?"   
  
"Fuck off, Clint!" Bucky handed him a wad of cash from his wallet. "You have horrible timing." 

"Oh shit." Clint cringed, meeting brief eye contact with Steve, who gave a bashful smile back. "Uh, I was never here. This moment never happened, I'm a mirage of your imagination." 

Bucky crawled back over after rolling the window up, this time not falling over or bumping his head. "Now, where were we?" 

Kissing Bucky or better yet, _Bucky kissing Steve_ was breathtaking, metaphorically speaking. Bucky took his time, drag the moment however long he wanted. But as they continued exploring each other's bodies, hands drifting from one limb to the next, Bucky started getting a little too much into it. Like a person dying of thirst on a hot summer day in the middle of a desert. Parched, the force of need written all over his face. 

Time passed maybe minutes or an eternity, but all good things had to come to a screeching halt. Steve pressed one more kiss before pushing Bucky away, only a few inches because well, he always wanted to be cuddled next to Bucky. 

A cough escaped his throat before he could speak up. "Sorry, popcorn must've made me thirsty." Another cough, followed by a third. Steve placed a hand over his chest and rubbed there, hoping to ease his muscles. More threatened to rise but he forced them down. He thought nothing of it, a mere inconvenience of eating buttery, salty popcorn.   
  
A water bottle came into view, Bucky held it up, uncapped. Now Steve seemed like the actual dying man of thirst. For good measure, Steve used his inhaler. Bucky lingered a hand on his shoulder, the left, as always. "You okay?" 

Steve wiped his mouth off with the sleeve of his arm, handing the bottle back. "I'm good, Buck," he cleared his throat. "But I wanted to ask since we're so..." He waved a hand in the air. "Attached to each other. Are we—"  
  
"Boyfriends?" Bucky said the word without any hesitation whatsoever. Easy as pie. He swept a hand through Steve's hair and looked at him with soft earnest eyes. "Babydoll, I'd be honored to call you my boyfriend." 

Boyfriend.   
  
_Boyfriends._

Yes, yes. Steve loved that, had wanted it for so long. 

"Boyfriend..." It rolled off Steve's tongue so easily. "Boyfriend," he repeated. "Yeah, I can get used to that." 

They resumed fooling around some more for quite a while. Neither of them cared for the movie, they wrote it off long ago. The lead actor did so many garbage movies, he should just decline one every once in a while, this one especially. By the time the dark of the night came around, both of them were worn out. From their initial dinner date to their makeout session. 

Steve felt risky enough to test his luck out. It had been an incredible day after all. Confidence boost. "I know it's late and all, but could I stay at your place for the night?" 

They were settled in their own seats upfront, the heat blasting to knock the chill off from when Bucky hadn't rolled the window completely up.   
  
The whine Bucky made had Steve's full attention. "Stevie, I'd love that but my apartment is a total disaster." He reached over to slip a hand over Steve's knee. "You're not allergic to cats but I'd feel better if I tidied up beforehand. Alpine's fur sticks to everything." 

Somehow the riskier part of Steve's brain forgot that one important detail. "That's fine, I just thought to ask." 

"I'll make it up to you for next time." The look in Bucky's eyes said everything Steve needed to know. "'Kay sweetheart?" 

As the stunning, gentleman of a doctor Bucky was, he walked Steve right to his doorstep. 

"I had fun tonight," Steve said after parting from Bucky's lips. A short and sweet goodnight kiss. "Quite honestly the best night of my life." 

"Me too." Bucky let go of Steve's hand he held so dearly the whole time. "I hope I'm not moving too fast but would you like to get breakfast with me in the morning? There's a good diner that makes killer waffles."   
  
Eating waffles with Bucky on a lazy Sunday morning sounded divine.   
  
"Don't have to ask me twice about that. I love breakfast since I've been a morning person all my life."   
  
Bucky threw back his head and laughed. Short, cute giggles. Steve would never get tired of hearing that laugh. "Must be nice. I had to train myself to like them ever since becoming a doctor. Wasn't fun but I got used to it, eventually."   
  
Steve unlocked the door, better make it seem like he was trying to go in or they'd never break apart. They'd probably spend all night out here if they wanted. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm a night owl at heart. Made night shifts during residency bearable by a ton." 

Steve turned back and couldn't help himself but to plant another kiss, on Bucky's cheek this time. "Interesting. Never pegged you to be one." 

"Not all of us are trained to love mornings right out of the book." Bucky patted Steve's back. "I better get going and let you get some rest." 

Steve smiled as Bucky walked down the sidewalk to his car. "See you in the morning!"   
  
Bucky waved with a smirk. "Night, punk!" 

"Jerk," Steve whispered to himself since Bucky had gotten out of earshot. 

Apparently, Sam saved all his questions _after_ their date. How was it like meeting Peggy? _Amazing, she complimented my art too, I'm still freaking out about it._ Was Bucky a good kisser? _I already kissed him before, Sam. But for your information, yes._ What about a second date? _We're meeting up for breakfast in the morning._ Are you two in looooove? _Shut up, I'm going to bed._

Steve took his night meds and used his inhaler before crawling into bed. The cough from before persisted, but he was too tired and wore out after the eventful day to raise any concern. 

Little did he know before passing out, his chest constricted with tightness. 

He even missed the fact that his body turned hot and clammy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uH-OHHH. Stevie's gotta be put back together.
> 
> 9/7/20 Update: Chapter 7 is becoming longer and longer, let's hope I make it by Friday D: If not, just think how amazing it'll be!!


	7. Sick Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHMYGOD OKAY, HELLO! I'm FOUR days late but for good reason! And look, this chapter is over 7k! 
> 
> The original draft/rewrite of this part of the story was way too short and looked like straight up GARBAGE. I got it right this time and BOY is it good. I'm really proud of it. It's full of medical whump and just overall hurt/comfort goodness. 
> 
> I keep saying "okay we're getting to the end!" but then I add another chapter because this fic has turned into a BEAST. But for real this time. Nine chapters total. LET'S HOPE I STICK TO THAT. Chapter 8 is almost finished and after that, a short epilogue!  
> (PS: Had to repost the chapter since it showed up as updated yesterday, oops!)

While half asleep, Steve rolled onto his stomach on sweat soaked sheets. Bad mistake, a heavy pressure sat against his chest. The room spun when he cracked his eyes open, he recoiled as a chill crawled up his neck. Wet coughs challenged his lung's strength, sharp wheezing pierced his oversensitive ears. 

Steve turned over to his side, now fully awake but his mind still fuzzy. He reached a blind hand and slapped the nightstand, grabbing his rescue inhaler. He mentally counted in his head after the first puff. A second didn't do much good either. 

Fatigue slipped its way through despite sleeping for almost— Steve squinted his eyes. The red numbers on the alarm clock displayed one forty-something. Barely four hours.

All the signs led to it. Some sort of illness. Sick once again, never enough time to rest between another. By far the longest he'd gone without falling ill but of all things, it had to come and bite him in the ass. 

He finally got his asthma declared as under control literally two days ago. Now here he was, sick as a dog with god knows what. 

Instead of facing the matter at hand, Steve turned back over once again and threw the comforter over his head, leaving an opening to breathe. Ignoring a problem by sleeping was always his personal forte. Especially sicknesses, he always hoped sleep would miraculously change something overnight. 

It never worked. 

The next time he woke, he vaguely registered a door cracking open. He'd started coughing larger hacking coughs with disgusting phlegm at some point during the night. The fever he clearly sported continued to rage on, making him feel cold despite the amount of heat radiating from his body. 

Someone's hand settled on his cheek. "Jesus Steve, I heard you all the way across the hall. You look worse than you sound." 

Steve mumbled an inaudible retort between a cough. Their voice sounded muffled, sheer background noise to his ears. 

A finger tapped his arm. "What was that, Steve?" Sam's voice. Steve had no energy to move or speak, barely knew what he'd said just before. "Alright, I'm calling him. This isn't good." 

Sleep deprivation pulled Steve under once more. Whatever he'd caught was just getting started. With his history, anything could turn for the worst. Sleeping it off could be the best medicine, the article he read years ago said so. For now, that was all he cared about. 

Minutes or maybe hours, Steve had no idea how much time passed. 

Whispered voices echoed the hall. A warm and large familiar hand pressed against his forehead while another settled on his arm. 

"Damn he's burning up, almost warm as a furnace," a new voice said. "You got a thermometer?" 

Sam replied with something and left, closing the door just a crack. 

A hand gently shook Steve's shoulder but with enough force to disturb him. "Steve, wake up sweetheart."

As Steve slowly came to, he recognized who the voice belonged to. 

Bucky.

Fingers danced across his lower jaw, light but firm pressure down to his neck. The times before had felt soothing and comforting. Steve embraced those little moments. But this situation wasn't the case. Steve backed away with a whine, almost bumping his head against the headboard. 

"Shh, I know you don't like me poking and prodding." 

Steve squinted his eyes open, the lights were off thankfully aside from the bedside lamp. "Buck?" His voice cracked, voice foreign and unlike himself. “What're you doing’ here?” 

Bucky leaned on the edge of the bed, hair loose and disheveled, wearing sweatpants and a faded Nasa t-shirt. "Emergency number, remember?" 

Sitting up was a mistake. Soon as Steve lifted off his elbows, he fell right back down. It hurt to move, aches, and pains mixed with body wracking chills.

Sam returned with the thermometer and a few other supplies. "This is all we've got." 

"It'll do." Bucky took the object he asked for. "Under your tongue, Stevie." 

Steve let Bucky slide the plastic thermometer below his tongue, closing his mouth around it. While it calculated, a cool cloth came to lay against his forehead. A relieved moan slipped past his lips. 

The device beeped. 

"Shit." Bucky tossed it aside then held Steve's hand. He pinched taut skin on the backside for a moment and let go. "Sam, get the car started." He tossed his keys to Sam, who caught them. 

Sam looked for confirmation but Bucky gave him the classic 'I know what I'm doing' look. "How bad was it?" 

"Hundred and three-point seven _and_ he's dehydrated." 

Sam cursed under his breath. "I'll be ready in five." 

All the while during their conversation, Steve hadn't flinched at the mention of what Bucky said. He laid there in misery, floating on some other realm while coughing up a lung. 

Bucky lifted Steve up and supported him in his arms. More shivers ebbed up Steve's spine now the blanket pooled below his waist. 

"Buck," Steve croaked out quietly into Bucky's chest. He'd admit it now, come face to face with it. He was sick, badly so. 

The cloth slipped off his forehead, it came over his cheeks. Bucky wiped the sweat off Steve's face and neck. "I know babydoll, I know." 

Something struck in Steve's mind, a feeling of fearfulness. "Where are we goin'?" 

Bucky tucked a fleece blanket around Steve's shoulders and made sure his whole body was wrapped in the fabric. "The hospital sweetheart, I'm sorry. You're very sick and you're wheezing pretty bad too." 

His victory in controlling his asthma got swept under the rug. The floodgates opened. Tears free flowed down Steve's cheeks like a faucet running on full blast. He didn't hold back the soft quiet sobs, just let it happen. 

"Shh, relax Steve." Bucky grabbed the blue inhaler off the side table. "Take a puff for me." 

Steve coughed and wiped his eyes. He took a deep breath and wrapped his lips around the inhaler Bucky held. All too familiar bitter tasting medicine coated the back of his throat. It worked and settled his wheezing down just a tad. Not all the way, but enough. 

"I—I just got better," Steve sniffled a cry. "If I hadn't gone out I—"

Bucky tightened his hold and tucked Steve's head under his chin. "Don't blame yourself, you had no control over it. These things just happen sometimes."

Yeah, sometimes meant a lot for Steve. Far too many times. "For me, it doesn't. I always get sick. Always." 

"Okay." Bucky rubbed Steve's back up and down. "Look at me." 

Steve lifted his head. "You have a weakened immune system, right?" Course he did, for his whole life. "With a weakened immune system, it's harder for your body to fight off illnesses. But when your asthma's under control with the right medicine, it's easier on you. It may not be as easy as someone without asthma, but it's far better than when it's not under control." 

A thousand watt lightbulb turned on. "Oh," he breathed out. 

"You're strong and I know for a fact that you are." Bucky pulled away slightly and looked around the room. "Is there anything you wanna take with you?" 

"I've got a bag in the closet that's already packed. I keep it in case something like this happens." 

"Alright, can you sit right there while I get that?" 

Steve leaned against the headboard for balance. "Mm, it's the blue one." 

Bucky rummaged and brought out the bag then slung it around his shoulder. "Ready to go?" 

No. Steve never wanted to go to hospitals. He avoided them at all costs. But times like these were unavoidable. But Bucky being there made it so much easier. "With you by my side? Absolutely." 

Steve made the move to stand up but instead, Bucky hauled him up as if he weighed nothing. Well, he was light and Bucky's muscles had good use. 

Sam had the car up and running soon as they stepped into the chilly night, almost early morning air. Steve's teeth chattered despite the amount of heat radiating from his body. The backsets were upright this time, no air mattress insight. Bucky must've cleared it out right before he came. 

Bucky kicked the backdoor open with his foot and deposited Steve onto the far opposite side. Soon as the door shut, Steve plastered himself against Bucky's side. 

"You sure you want me drivin' this thing?" Sam asked upfront, looking into the rearview mirror. 

"Yeah, just drive," Bucky said, keeping his focus on Steve who shivered in his arms. "Gonna be there soon, Stevie." 

Commuting from the apartment to the hospital usually took about thirty minutes during traffic. Hopefully, the dead of the night would allow them to get there faster. Because Steve doesn't know how long he'd be able to hold up. He felt himself slipping every so often. His eyes drooped for a moment then he was suddenly blinking to stay awake. 

Bucky whispered soft encouragements into his ear, only loud enough for him to hear. "We'll fix you up sweetheart, find out what’s going on, and have you outta there in no time.” 

Steve whimpered into the crook of Bucky's neck. Every limb ached, possibly the worst illness he'd caught in a long time. 

A bumpy pothole jostled Steve into a coughing fit he'd been holding back. Steve's lungs struggled in his chest. The pain wasn't similar to an ordinary asthma attack. This was far different. Something more awful, constrictive with tight pressure mixed with a smidge of sharp pain. He suddenly felt the urge to breathe manually through his mouth, not able to get a clean lungful in. He wheezed and clutched his chest, reaching to tug at Bucky's shirt sleeve. 

"Almost there, doll. Almost there. Here, try and breathe this in." Bucky held the inhaler up and pressed it against Steve's mouth. He continued rubbing gentle circles on Steve's back, patting every so often between them. 

Steve shook his head, he wasn't able to talk. Lungs tightened, squeezing harder and harder as every second passed by. Pressure throbbing against his skull. 

“How long, Sam?” Bucky's voice turned urgent, almost pleading. 

"Two minutes out," Sam called out, gripping the steering wheel tight. 

Steve slipped further and further. A single breath resulted in constant pain. Eyes clenched shut, he felt himself drifting away to another time and space. Ringing ears muffled the desperate pleads underneath him. 

"Stay with me, Steve. Steve? _Steve!_ " 

* * *

Quiet persistent noise registered Steve’s mind when he came to. The room remained silent aside from beeping and a mechanical hiss coming from his left. A familiar omnipresent scent stung his nose. Antiseptic, used in hospital settings. 

A memory surfaced. He’d been sick in bed in the middle of the night. Bucky was there, carrying him in his arms then streetlights flashed into the speeding car passing through the highway. 

Steve wiggled his toes, shuffling his legs from side to side. A warm fleece blanket grazed his skin. The material’s softness felt soothing against his bare calves, and the hem of a thin gown met his knees. 

Tubing brushed against the back of his left hand, a hard object clipped to his finger. An IV and a heart monitor clip. Steve trailed his bare right hand down his abdomen. Multiple wires strung over his chest, circular pads stuck across the entire area. A localized tight pressure inflated his upper arm. 

Some kind of lightweight object rested against his face. Breathing with it felt odd, a pressurized sensation accompanied it. Steve brought his non-IV’d hand and clawed at it. His strength appeared almost useless. His body so weak and fatigued, whatever illness he had, sucked the life out of him. Someone else’s hand gently brought down Steve's to rest against his stomach. 

“It’s okay, Steve. I’m right here.” 

Steve gasped in surprise but it led to harsh wet coughs. _Bucky stayed._ But of course, Bucky stayed. He was Steve’s boyfriend after all. Steve turned his head to the right, Bucky sat in a guest chair, the same clothes from before. 

Talking smothered his voice. Whatever was on his face made it harder. Steve frowned, eyes pleading Bucky, a silent question of why. 

Bucky smoothed a hand down Steve's hair, tucking loose strands away while making low soothing sounds. Quiet shushes between parted lips, close to Steve's ear. Bucky leaned right above him, crowding in his space so he was the only thing in his peripheral vision. 

"Easy sweetheart. That mask is helping you breathe, it’s hooked up to the ventilator. Better known as NIV or non-invasive ventilation." Bucky held Steve's hand and brushed a thumb over the backside. “You’re in the hospital, okay? Not in the ICU but just a step below it.” 

Steve lifted his hand again, grazing his fingers to explore the hard plastic material. A tube connected to the mask with three straps. Two on either side of his face and the other above his head. 

Steve gestured for Bucky to come closer and Bucky seemed to understand what he wanted. He pointed to the mask and whispered next to Bucky’s ear. "How long—" He turned his head away from Bucky, coughing. “I’ve had this?” 

“Few hours. They sedated you when you came in. You’re being weaned off of it now but you might feel the after effects.” Oh thank god, he hadn’t lost a week’s worth of time. “You’ve got a bad case of pneumonia, bacterial to be precise. Wonder which bookstore you got it from,” Bucky huffed, rolling his eyes. 

Becca, Bucky’s sister. Bucky mentioned she was sick after the autograph signing. He ran into Becca and didn’t know of it? 

“But the reason you’re on the mask is because it's constricting your airways due to the inflammation in your lungs.” 

Steve tensed and Bucky shushed him immediately. “No it’s okay babydoll, you’re breathing on your own. They just need a little boost and the mask is there to help.” 

The tension in his body lifted like a rock being taken off a stack of papers. Steve inhaled, feeling the pressurized air of the mask. It hurt to do so, but he could breathe. Their work to get his asthma under control wasn't for nothing. He was okay, just like Bucky'd said. 

_Everything was okay._

“I’m glad you’re here." 

“Course I’ll always be here with you, Stevie. We’re gonna ride this thing out together, okay? You can fight this, I know you can.”

Bucky being by his side throughout a nasty bout of pneumonia made it all better. "Louv'b 'ou," Steve mumbled a croaky strained ' _I love you’_ then slipped his eyes shut. 

"What was that, Stevie?" Bucky squeezed his hand, not getting an answer after a minute. "Alright, I'll let you rest." He pressed a soft kiss to Steve's hairline, mindful of all the tubing. "God I love and care about you so much." 

* * *

They weaned Steve off the light sedation completely by mid morning. Though he slept throughout the day, only waking on occasion. Natasha stopped by during morning rounds, starting him on a round of antibiotics. Steve didn’t get to speak to her all that much, exhaustion accompanied the illness and it barely gave him five minutes of wakefulness. 

Sam stayed most of the morning, wishing him well and telling Steve how much he’d frightened him last night. At some point, Steve woke for a couple of minutes. Not opening his eyes but to just rest and listen out for what went on around him. 

He overheard Sam urging Bucky to go home, who apparently refused to leave. Sam struck a deal with him by staying at the hospital while Bucky ran home to take a shower and grab an extra pair of clothes. 

Throughout the day, Bucky checked the fluid bags every so often. To do what, Steve didn’t know. Bucky glanced at the monitors on occasion too. Perhaps instinctive doctor habits. Bucky remained at Steve’s bedside, tending to him by wiping a cool compress over his face.

It was nice, having a caretaker who knew the ins and outs of anything medical related. A guardian angel of a boyfriend who happened to be a doctor. Bucky knew how to handle and treat most illnesses and symptoms, from a mild fever to a severe asthma attack. Steve loved that about Bucky. 

Though everything was _not_ okay like Steve thought. By evening, his high fever continued despite all the drugs they loaded him on. On top of that, chest pain, headaches, and chills ripped through his body. Overall, he felt miserable. 

Fever always turned Steve into an emotional mess. Tears gathered around the bulky mask, congested breaths fogging the clear hard plastic. “I’m weak.” 

“No, you’re not, doll.” 

Bucky prepared a nebulizer with supplied medicine. Before shift change, a day nurse brought the albuterol for his evening treatment. Bucky insisted on taking over and the nurse was satisfied since Steve was her last patient of the day. 

With pneumonia, Steve had to take four treatments per day, as instructed by Natasha. Morning, afternoon, evening, and at night. The disadvantage of being a chronic asthmatic, needing more drugs when sick. 

Bucky screwed a long mouthpiece to the canister cup. Ventilator circuit tubing set aside, he connected the reservoir tube to the mask. “You’re the strongest person I know.” 

Steve drew a wheezy breath in and coughed. He gripped the nebulizer’s end piece tight. Denial, he wouldn’t hear of it. “Not true.” Foggy mist billowed out the mask, obscuring his face. 

“It is true. You’ve got more strength than you know.” Bucky lowered the guardrail. He leaned Steve forward and slipped behind him, laying Steve to rest against his chest, head slumped on Bucky’s clavicle. “Let’s do this treatment together, yeah?” He rubbed a hand over Steve’s upper shoulder while massaging through his sweaty disheveled hair.

Further in distress, Steve’s short whimpered cries increased his high pitched wheezing. Every short intake of breath plagued his body with pain. All his senses heightened, noises were far too loud in his ears. 

“Hurts, Buck,” Steve mumbled, teary eyes blurring his vision. “Don’t feel good.” 

“I know, it’ll get better soon.” Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, gently rocking him slowly. He massaged into the tense chest muscles with the pads of his fingers. The motion erupted a coughing fit instantly. Steve arched his back and grimaced. A sharp pain surged down the back of his drainage coated throat. 

Bucky patted his back lightly. “Goodness that cough is nasty.” 

Hiccups wrecked Steve’s small form with each inhale. The nebulizer hummed in the background, it came in handy at this exact moment. Though it didn’t seem to do any good. Not in Steve’s current state. All he could do was let the coughs happen and breathe to the best of his ability amongst his cries. 

“Shh, settle down babydoll.” Bucky tucked his chin on top of Steve’s head, cooing words of comfort. They swayed together, Bucky kept the rhythm consistent. “Try to relax, crying only makes it worse.” 

Relaxation never came. Only stinging tears formed in the corner of his eyes, flowing down to wobbling parted lips, tasting the salty liquid on his tongue. Raw emotion he’d been holding back expelled like waterfalls. Wet ragged coughs, body shuddering chills, a pounding headache, tight chest pressure, and body aching joints— _God the body aches._ It just wouldn’t stop. Every symptom collided at once with force. Steve’s body ruled against him. 

All the side effects that came with a breathing treatment made it worse. Tingling fingertips loosened his hold on the medicine canister, it fell and hung loose against his side. He felt his racing heartbeat pounding inside his already aching chest. Steve was beyond his breaking point. Too much, all of it. His overwhelmed mind manifested into panic. 

Formerly steady, the heart monitor’s monotone beeping formed into loud chimes. Continuous rapid noise blared over the nebulizer hum. More alarms were set off, increasing Steve’s startled state. 

“Steve—”   
  
Bucky never got the chance to finish his sentence. Mucus expelled with the next cough, throwing Steve face forward out of Bucky’s hold. Thick phlegm soiled the mask, creating a mess within. 

Steve scratched the mask with trembling hands. Ripping and tearing, doing anything in his power to remove it. His desperate distress complicated the process of figuring out how to unlatch the straps. 

Bucky straightened up and took matters into his own hands. Nimble fingers unstrapped the mask in three short strokes. Bucky hastily tossed it aside. “It’s off sweetheart, it’s off.” 

Violent forceful coughs lurched Steve to double over. His body shivered in spasms as he clutched the thin gown. Excess saliva built up inside his mouth. Before his brain registered it, nausea surfaced and hot bile heaved from his throat. A kidney shaped basin shoved under his chin, catching the mess before it could soak the bedsheets. 

Steve whimpered miserable sounding moans between an unpleasant rough heave. He blindly searched for Bucky’s hand, eyes clenched shut. 

“Right here.” Bucky interlinked one of their hands together, giving him a soft squeeze. “I’m right here with you, Stevie. Not goin’ anywhere.” 

Steve squeezed back. “B—Bucky,” he strained out. It took everything in himself to catch a single full breath. His lungs protested and clammed in on themselves, chest transmitting the all too familiar tight constriction. He tried swallowing but he choked on it, gagging into the small plastic bin. Retching, crying, and wheezing, all at the same time. 

“You’re okay, s’alright. Just your body’s way of fighting it off. Get it all out, babydoll.” Steve protested silently, he shook his head with a sniffle and pulled Bucky’s arm to his chest. “Hey, I know, shh, easy there. Not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

Even under a large amount of stress, Steve took Bucky’s words of _‘taken care of’_ to heart. Bucky raised their entwined hand to his lips and kissed Steve’s knuckles. Far too large of a gown for Steve’s body, the neck opening slid off his shoulder. 

Bucky froze. 

“What the hell?” 

His tone indicated something wasn’t right. Something was very, _very wrong._ More so than the current predicament. 

Bucky pulled the fabric further down, color draining from his frowned face. “Oh god.” He untied the bow from the back, parting it entirely. 

Bucky slammed the nurse call button on the bed’s guardrail controls. 

Steve lifted his head from the basin Bucky still held. Thankfully his body ceased from expelling his guts. Though his breathing hadn’t improved. He flicked his eyes over where Bucky examined his shoulder carefully, an almost clinical type demeanor.

Raised red welts. Starting from the top of his shoulders and skating below his back. Angry large swollen clusters covering every bit of skin. It explained everything. Inflammation causes shortness of breath, nausea, and fever. 

Within a snap, Steve was right back at square one. 

Breathing was difficult all together beforehand, especially now without assistance from the large mask. Steve gripped one side of the bedrail to keep himself upright. Slowly, he registered his throat closing in on itself at a snail's pace. 

Gasping for air when he’d been puking was hard. Gasping for air _afterward_ was even harder. “Didn’t notice,” Steve whispered with a short but sharp wheeze. 

Within two short strides, Bucky stood and disposed of the basin’s contents down the sink. Bucky ran back in a haste, pulling a non-rebreather mask from a medical cart and attaching it to an oxygen wall outlet above the bed. He unwound some tubing, adjusted the dial, and tested the flow with the back of his hand. 

“That’s how anaphylaxis works ‘cause it can occur within minutes.” His words evoked professionalism, maintaining a calm composure. Bucky went from boyfriend to doctor in a span of five seconds. Masking whatever intense fright he showed moments ago. 

Steve breathed a sigh at the cool flowing oxygen traveling to his lungs. That one breath felt so good but lasted only for a split second. He clutched the mask as Bucky tightened the straps to create a seal so no air could escape. 

Anaphylactic shock. Steve hadn’t had an allergic reaction in over a decade. A vivid situation of the past crossed his memory. Shellfish. Choking and gasping for breath in a quiet restaurant with his ma. The ambulance had taken forever to get there, passing out was a possibility if not for the kind stranger with an epi-pen. 

Until now, he’d forgotten what they were like. Without immediate treatment, a reaction could turn ugly daringly fast. If they got too bad, intubation would be taken into serious consideration. 

“Bag.” Steve pointed to the couch in the corner. “Pen.” 

Bucky took no hesitation to sort through the bag. He wrapped a fist around it and uncapped the safety release. Steve lifted his gown to give Bucky access to his thigh then turned his head in the opposite direction, not wanting to see it go in. The life saving device jammed his thigh and made a clicking sound. Steve held onto the side rail for dear life, whining in pain until the needle was withdrawn. 

Bucky tossed the pen aside, moving over to the mass of medical equipment and monitors with their still chiming alarms. He observed the array of machinery in silence, brows furrowing, and lips parted into a frown.   
  
“Damn it.” Bucky unclamped Steve’s grip from the bed rail and disconnected the IV tubing connected to the antibiotic bag. “It’s the antibiotic.” 

Another medicine for the massive list of things Steve was allergic to. The emergency shot of epinephrine worked but its magic diminished rapidly. Steve felt himself drifting and became partially aware of his surroundings. Lightheadedness spun the room, his head turned fuzzy. 

Bucky shook Steve’s shoulder, not gentle in the slightest. “Steve, stay awake pal.” He whispered things to himself, something about a nurse on the way and more medical jargon Steve couldn’t decipher. 

But pal. Not sweetheart or babydoll. Just pal. Like all the times when they were in the clinic. Steve’s hypothesis turned out to be right. Dire situations transformed Bucky into doctor mode within a snap of a finger. 

A knock tapped against clear sliding doors before drawing back the curtains. “How are we feeling mister...” A dark skinned female nurse wearing what looked to be designer style scrubs took the sight in and landed her eyes on a Steve. “My goodness, you poor thing.” She diverted her attention over to Bucky. “Also surprised to see you here Dr. Barnes.” 

“Shuri, it’s just Bucky today,” he sighed and rubbed his temple. “Wish I could’ve introduced you under better circumstances.” Bucky turned to face Shuri. “But that doesn’t matter. Who’s on call right now?” 

Shuri frowned in sympathy at Steve. “Dr. Rumlow unfortunately.”  
  
Bucky’s face paled like he’d seen a ghost. “No,” he gritted out, jaw set in a fine line. “I don’t trust him for a second.”  
  
“Romanoff isn’t around and I know you don’t like him Bucky but your friend here.” Steve was slumped back, head off the side, and eyes half lidded. “Allow me to—"   
  
Bucky grabbed Shuri’s wrist and stopped her from leaving the room. “Shuri, you’ve known me since you were a little thing. You stood by my bedside since that day while your mother nursed me back to health. Yes I know I’m not under his care but _please_.” 

Bucky looked at Steve and darted his head back with a shake. “Please let me do this,” he whispered, wet pleading eyes set on Shuri.  
  
“I trust you Bucky.” 

The masked facade Bucky wore moments ago vanished. A fuse must’ve been ignited. Steve’s bleary eyes watched Bucky shift into something he’d never witnessed before. 

Bucky straightened his back and held his head up high. “I need saline fluids, a fever reducer IV push, Ibuprofen preferably. Get me two rounds of epi and a nebulized corticosteroid. And have an extra syringe of epi on standby.” He tore a pair of well fitted gloves from a wall container and stretched the latex over his wrists with a smack. 

“Page Romanoff and tell her it’s an emergency.” 

“Got it.” Shuri darted toward the door. 

“God I wish I had my stethoscope,” Bucky mused out loud. 

Shuri pulled her dazzling blue stethoscope off her neck and tossed it over. “Take mine.” 

Bucky caught it with one hand. “Hurry back.” 

Steve coughed amidst heavy wheezes, sharp pitched noise echoing the four walls. Hollow sunken eyes bored at Bucky. A silent plea. Anything to take the horrid tightening chest pain away. His doctor, his caretaker, his boyfriend, his _lover._

Take the hurt away with a feather light touch and carry the frail boy off to safety.  
  
Bucky tore his gown off with one small swoop of a hand and lifted the blanket to Steve’s waist. “Help’s on the way, Steve.” He squeezed Steve’s hand. “You with me?” 

Steve internally jumped in alarm at the heightened volume of Bucky’s voice. Whatever tone Bucky tried to invoke definitely worked. He managed a weak squeeze back, fingers grazing the smooth rubbery texture. 

Bucky lowered the guardrail and cranked the bed up high with a foot pedal underneath. The not warmed round metal disc slid over his breastbone. Bucky concealed his facial expressions, face completely unreadable. That in which concerned Steve. Though considering his current condition with throat swelling, breathing issues, and hives, no wonder Bucky jumped into a professional bedside manner. 

Shuri returned with a large handful of supplies carried on a metal tray. She took to the right side opposite of Bucky and set the tray on the tail end of the bed. 

Two angels here to rescue him. 

“Hang in there, Mr. Rogers.” Shuri set out to prepare the steroid inhalation for the nebulizer.  
  
Even breathless, Steve refused to be called that. He lifted the mask away from his face momentarily. “Ste-ve.” 

“He’s still kickin’ with us.” Bucky outstretched a gloved hand across the bed, palm face up. “Flush syringe.”

Bucky swiped the IV port with an alcohol swab, cool saline flowed through Steve’s veins, a sour taste on the tip of his tongue. Bucky pushed a full syringe of medication into the IV port, the liquid slowly diminishing into the thin extension catheter. He repeated with another. 

Bucky glanced up at the monitors. “That’s one dose and the fever reducer.” He touched a button on one of the machine’s and the blood pressure cuff around Steve’s arm started inflating, building up a tight pressurized vice. 

Shuri replaced the rebreather with a nebulizer mask, mist springing up into the air and the machine's motor hummed. Steve needed a large gulp of mouthwash afterward because the aftertaste of throwing up, saline flush, and bitter medicine created a disgusting taste in the back of his throat.  
  
“Get the saline drip started.” Bucky leaned over and pressed the stethoscope end against Steve’s chest, he spoke louder. “Steve, your heart’s gonna start feeling like it’s pounding out of your chest but we need those airways to open up.” He addressed a series of medical terminologies about the dosage to Shuri. “I know it hurts but try a deep breath.” 

A strained inhale sent Steve right into a harsh coughing fit. Frantic alarms went off again, ringing into his too sensitive ears. His heart rate had to be through the roof by now. Each fast paced thump tore through too delicate bones. Heavy tight pressure like a five thousand pound elephant made dark spots appear in his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut, a vaguely familiar sensation washed over him. A sense of losing consciousness on the horizon. 

Wheezy wet sounds derived from his mouth, lungs working overtime for a clear cut breath. Tremors ran up his sickly pale sweat drenched skin. Sweaty hair lay plastered to his forehead, the annoying strand stuck flaccid. 

Shuri splayed a comforting hand over Steve’s upper shoulder, patting to settle him down. Her hand stayed there, not pulling back after his coughs ceased. Since Bucky couldn’t console Steve while he occupied a doctor mode headspace, Shuri comforted him with the sweetest bedside manner. Nurses were a gift to mankind. 

Bucky gave Shuri her stethoscope back. “Still got some constriction up in there so I’m giving you another dose, alright?” Steve hummed, face scrunching up when Bucky pressed the plunger, fluid entering his veins. “Shuri, listen, and see what you think. I heard mucus moving around but that could be from the pneumonia.” 

Steve opened his eyes, blinking out the tears that had formed at some point. Bucky had his hands on his hips, surveying Steve’s face and passing a few glances at the monitors. On instinct, he breathed deeply when Shuri pressed the circular disc to his chest. Only then did he notice the drastic change in his breathing. It still hurt to breathe but the chest and throat tightness ceased altogether. 

Shuri set her stethoscope back around her neck. “I agree. He sounds wheezy but a definite improvement after an allergic reaction.” 

The medicine inside the nebulizer treatment evaporated. Bucky turned the machine off with a click of a button. Steve's fingers and toes tingled with a mix of lightheadedness. But a new sensation arose. His breathing issues had suppressed the pesky itchiness on his back and shoulders. 

“Vitals are coming back up.” Bucky held Steve’s IV donned hand and brushed a finger over his knuckles, mindful of the tubing. He craned his neck to look at Steve directly. “How’re you feeling now, Steve?” 

“M’tired an’ itchy,” Steve slurred his words, wide mouth parted in a yawn. “But I can breathe, that’s all it counts.” 

Shuri gathered the medical supplies but left one on the bed. “I'll get you an antihistamine and some lotion.” 

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Bucky tipped his head to Shuri. “Thanks, Shuri.” 

Shuri made a nonchalant wave and told Bucky he owed her lunch before pulling the curtains closed. Bucky removed his gloves, throwing them in the lidded trash can, and picked up the remaining medical object. 

Steve’s round eyes enlarged, body recoiling in tight fear, sudden dread pulsed in his gut. He stared hard at the object held in Bucky’s hand, the other picking up the ventilator hose and connecting it with it. He’d gotten somewhat used to it since waking up. 

But after fifteen minutes of freedom meant it was time for it to go back on. Steve had no desire for it. The thought nauseated him. Too tight edges squeezing his face, resting hard on the bridge of his nose. Forced pressurized air making it hard to sleep. His muffled voice when speaking, bulky plastic shrouding his sight. 

And the worst, blocking his sight from seeing Bucky sleeping by his bedside in the uncomfortable chair. Being unable to speak clearly when he wanted to tell Bucky a joke or something. The inability for Bucky to kiss him on the cheek, to rub a thumb over his jaw or press their foreheads together. 

Pneumonia or not, Steve wouldn't hear any of it. He’d caught pneumonia multiple times in the past and recovered fine without. Surely now would be an exemption, his asthma’s far better under control than years past. Sick he may feel, but damn it if he had to wear a bulky claustrophobic mask.

The loose dangling straps came up to his head, one grazing an ear. Steve batted it away with a powerful shove even in his weakened state. He crossed both arms and frowned at Bucky, standing his ground. 

“Steve,” Bucky drawled, attempting to bring the mask back up but Steve shoved his arm instead. “You’re very sick and on top of that, you just had an allergic reaction to the antibiotic.” 

He could care less right now. All he wanted was to sleep in some peace and quiet without the godforsaken thing. The sedation had diluted his awareness of it. Without being medically put under, the weight of it was too much to block out. 

“No.” Nails dug into raised bumpy skin, scratching away an itch. Steve grasped the edge of the blanket and raised it to his chin, hugging himself underneath. “Don’t want it.” 

Bucky took a tiny step back, scoffing through pursed lips. “No?” He swiveled a monitor directly in front of Steve. A finger pointed at one of the animated squiggly lines. “See this? That’s your oxygen saturation. It’s currently at ninety-five without the mask and it was ninety-three previously. You _do_ need it.” 

Medical terminology always flew right over Steve’s head most of the time. The numbers and horizontal lines signified nothing to him. He couldn’t read the damn thing. He was an artist not a healthcare professional. Though blood oxygen levels under a certain number could become dangerous, leading to horrific repercussions. But the monitors stayed silent. An ordinary run of the mill mask surely would be enough. 

Steve clenched his fists beneath the blanket, coughing into the short fuzzy fabric. “I don’t want to fight you on this so just give me the regular mask back.” 

Bucky’s posture morphed into immense seriousness, resembling irritation. His nostrils flared, arms tucked to his side, and jaw set straight. It was at that moment Steve came face to face with how big of a guy Bucky was compared to himself. Steve lay sick and vulnerable on the lumpy mattress and Bucky could force him to do whatever he wanted. And Steve wouldn’t be able to fight back or anything. 

“Look, a standard mask isn’t the same. NIV therapy can increase oxygen levels and decrease the carbon dioxide levels in your blood. In practice, the benefits of it outrank acute oxygen therapy for pneumonia patients with severe asthma, like yourself. Now please, wear the mask.” 

Claustrophobia outweighed whatever medical textbook stuff Bucky talked about. “You know what? I was wrong. I don’t miss you being my doctor.” 

And this was a perfect example of why doctors don’t treat their loved ones.

Steve from four months ago would be crying out the door. Steve from last month would never think to say what he’d just said. Steve now had grown overtime during that month and learned to entrust more trustworthy medical workers. 

Steve’s love for Bucky overruled a power imbalanced doctor patient relationship. Some sad and lonely version of himself from a month ago dared the thought of dating during their clinical relationship. A relationship in that setting just wasn’t plausible. It was morally wrong, illegal, and overall bad news. 

The Bucky from their appointments was different from today. Early on back then, he’d treat and care for Steve with a healthy headspace. He'd explain everything in layman's terms and when not, he’d explain the meaning of them. He’d stay professional and reserved, sometimes adding an excessive amount of friendly charm _. Too much_ friendly charm in the last couple of weeks. Steve back then couldn't figure out what that was but he now knew exactly what it meant. 

But this Bucky acted differently compared to the day they met. His actions radiated a clouded fond devotion, an unrestrained affection turned wild, overcast by years of medical knowledge and experience. His affection turned distraught under high stress situations involving Steve. Bucky’s _love_ for Steve clouded the rational part of his brain in this type of setting. 

But yes, sometimes he could get the job done like during Steve’s allergic shock moments ago. Though other times Bucky’s handiwork got sloppy, being too rough when performing an ear or throat exam. Steve wouldn’t blame Bucky, not in the slightest. Because he too would probably do the same if in that position. 

Bucky from today had too changed. He’d gotten softer, using all those flowery pet names to make Steve blush, who liked the hell out of it. When not under giant distress, he cooed and coddled Steve like a baby koala. Steve never wanted Bucky to stop caring for him, he was a wonderful caretaker. Bucky's bedside manner emulated sweetness even outside the professional bubble. 

It was so simple it hit Steve like a revolving door.

_Bucky fell in love with him._

Steve in turn too loved Bucky. They were in love, the words unspoken. Maybe there was a downside of dating a doctor. Doctors were their own worst patients and in turn, their lover could be their worst patient too. Bucky’s words tried to come off as simple professional advice but the _in love_ side broke out even more. 

Bucky hunched his shoulders with a punished puppy dog frown, head lowered and hair framing his bearded cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something but Steve beat him to it. 

“You’re a good doctor but I want my boyfriend back.” 

Like magic words. The bulky mask clattered against the linoleum floor. Bucky shot up and took an oxygen mask down from the equipment rack above the bed. Soon as he turned the flow on, he sat down and hovered it two inches from his face, mouth closed, nostrils contracting. 

Steve’s brows arched together. “You okay, Buck?” 

Bucky nodded, a half smile blooming on his face. He shook his head then fastened the thin elastic green straps over Steve’s head. “Yeah. Sorry for getting carried away, I just want what’s best for you. Thanks for snapping me out of it.” 

The mask softened Steve’s voice. “It’s okay, I understand.” 

“You scared the hell outta me.” Bucky enlaced both of Steve’s hands, giving him a light squeeze. “I should’a noticed something was up sooner.” 

“There was no way you would've caught it earlier. You said it yourself.” Steve felt his eyelids growing heavy, he wanted to sleep but a question lingered in his mind. “But why didn’t you want that doctor coming in here?” 

Bucky’s whole body stiffened, he tightened his grip and breathed out a heavy exhale. “He’s just an arrogant douchebag who tries to get on my back during morning rounds. He thinks he’s better than everyone else even though he’s a fellow and not an attending.” 

“Sounds familiar in my experience.” Steve closed his eyes, slipping further down to get comfortable. Pillow cushioned his head, filling to support the gap between his shoulders and neck. “Glad you asked beforehand.” 

Bucky stood up and turned the fluorescent lights off. Only an overhead light above the bed emitted a soft glow on its dimmest setting. “Nat’s gonna take good care of you when she gets here.” 

Steve coughed a couple of times, feeling pain raking over his chest and itchiness on his back. Lotion sounded good but a nap sounded even better. One of the monitors made a low chime, Bucky silenced it. 

“Honestly I’d feel better if you were on the bi-pap but if you don’t like it, I won’t make you. Your sats aren’t in the danger zone anymore so I’ll leave it at that.”

Steve yawned between an incoherent mumble, exhaustion pulling him further down. He cracked his eyes open a tad. “Mmm’kay. Thanks, Dr. Barnes.” 

Steve got a kick out of Bucky’s reaction, a grin tugged over his lip. Bucky’s nose wrinkled when he ruffled Steve’s hair, he drew back, frowning with distaste. “Rest up stubborn little punk. Gonna talk to Shuri out in the hall real quick, ‘kay?” He kissed Steve’s cheek. “I’ll be back when Nat’s here.” 

The curtain drew back before sliding doors clicked shut. A normal lightweight oxygen mask made sleeping so much easier. Without the massive one covering his face, he could comfortably rest his cheeks against the pillow. That factor may be true, but his symptoms kept him in misery.

Exhaustion took over in the end. Steve finally fell into a peaceful sleep for what little amount of time his body gave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you noticed the tags, I've added something that will happen in chapter 8 :)
> 
> Oh and no, Rumlow will NOT be making an appearance. I just needed an excuse for Bucky to treat Steve again lolol


	8. Sick Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is OVER NINE THOUSAND! I can't believe I wrote over 50k in the span of like, two and a half months? (Plus I threw out a lot of scenes I thought were meh) GOOD LORD THAT'S A LOT. But we've only got one chapter left to go :(
> 
> THANK YOU to every single person who has read/kudos'd/commented on my fic. I never, ever thought anyone else would like this sort of AU. It's pretty uncommon to find them within the Stucky fandom. But look at me, I've blessed the fandom with this <3 
> 
> And there's SOO much more to come, I ain't stopping anytime soon. I've got oneshots planned for this universe (I made this into a series a couple chapters back) plus another multi-chaptered established relationship Hospital!AU fic I wanna start writing in a couple of months.

Soon after falling asleep, Shuri's footsteps neared his bed, coming to stand next to all the medical machines and equipment. She fiddled with the IV bag and soon, medicine flowed through his IV. Steve sighed in relief when she left, falling back into a comfortable rest. Lotion could wait, sleep came first above all else. 

Steve had just gotten to a state of somnolence, ready to sleep like a cat until four footsteps neared the door, soft whispering between two people. He hissed through clenched teeth when the ceiling lights flickered on, lips pulled in a grimace with eyes squeezed shut. Shoes squeaked against the tile floor, darkness engulfed the room once more. 

Someone sighed. A female voice. The bed's overhead light turned brighter, though Steve didn't mind, as this one shone a faint gleam. 

A partially warmed stethoscope end came to rest against his chest. Nothing like Bucky’s. Well manicured fingers lightly touched the underside of his neck. Steve reeled back, crying out from sudden discomfort washing over him. 

Gentle warm hands combed through his hair, parting the front ends back. 

“Shh, I know Stevie. Nat’s just doing a brief exam, it’s okay.” 

Steve whined a pitiful sound in the back of his throat and turned his face into Bucky’s hands, forehead brushing the underside of his palm. He smelled of hand sanitizer, fresh as if he used some prior. It stung Steve’s nose, brows crinkling close to the bridge of the oxygen mask. 

Bucky whispered soft encouragements throughout the remainder of the examination. He consoled Steve with an apology whenever he whimpered out of more discomfort. Natasha peaked under the blanket, a careful trace over his pale red inflamed bumps of skin. She tucked it back once finished. 

Natasha turned away to check the array of machines and tubing. She then confronted Bucky. “Can I speak to you in private?” 

Bucky stood back, uttering a soft ‘sure’ as he withdrew from Steve, who in turn whined at the loss of his warm presence. “I’ll be right back sweetheart, not gonna be too far from you. Just a shout away from the hall.”

A soft gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead, Bucky lingered before parting ways. “The emergency call button is right here if you need it.” A remote brushed his side, the guardrails snapped in place. “We’ll let you rest.” 

Falling asleep in a somewhat noisy part of the hospital was a constant struggle despite how awful he felt. His drowsiness subsided, no longer weary. The urge to nap for a lifetime tugged him, yet he couldn’t. 

Steve turned over on his side, sighing while he maneuvered all the wires and tubing so they wouldn’t tangle. He cursed himself for not choosing his left side because the door stood right before him. 

A glimmer of light poured into the room, curtains left halfway open. Outside the hall, a few nurses passed here and there, station desk not too far out of eyesight. 

Steve's eyelids finally drooped once more, he licked his lips and took a slow breath in. High flowing oxygen reached his lungs, comforting him back into a light doze. He snored, smooth as honey. 

Yelling bounced off behind enclosed walls. Steve startled awake with a sharp jolt, eyes bulging out of their sockets. His shoulder rammed into the hard guardrail, a soft hiss from the sudden shock. After recovering from the mild twinge of pain, he stared at the door frozen solid. 

Long brunette hair, recognizable from anywhere and easy enough to spot in a crowd of a hundred people. Bucky leaned forward against the nurses' station with his arms spread out with his palms flat against the surface, back turned to Steve. 

“He doesn’t fuckin’ want it, he's scared of the damn thing!” 

On a swivel chair sat Natasha with her arms crossed, serious unfavorable expression with eyes narrowed. Her voice didn’t carry unlike Bucky’s, who barely lowered his voice to a pleading whisper yell. 

“Look, he's comfortable at the moment, let him rest.” 

Natasha pressed her lips together, shaking her head. 

“Nat, his stats are steady for now.” 

Through his still hazy half conscious state, Steve frowned, running through a number of things they could be arguing about. Natasha hadn’t said anything when she performed her exam. Or least Steve hadn’t been awake enough to hear anything.

"No, I won't force him to wear the mask and neither are you." 

Steve turned pale, fearing the mask even though Bucky defended him. The mere thought of it drew a shiver down his neck. 

“I’ll be monitoring him the whole time. Soon as his blood ox tips, I’ll switch it back.”  
  
Like hell, if Steve would let Bucky do that. 

Natasha exited the station, stalking closer to his door. “Fine. I know it's not my place to say, but I think you’re taking this relationship a little too fast.” 

_What?_ No, Natasha was wrong. She didn’t know anything about their dynamic. Bucky shared the same love and devotion Steve had. They met over a month ago under vastly different circumstances but regardless, they had chemistry. 

“I haven’t been in a relationship in years.” Bucky pulled off the counter with a tight scowl. “Also a bit hypocritical of you, don’tcha think? Remember the time I walked in on you and Clint fondling on my couch during med school? You hadn't known the guy for more than three hours after going out for drinks. Which I bought by the way. And let's not forget, you abandoned me at the bar so I had to walk home to...that."

How does Steve find himself stuck in the middle of such conversations? He never ever wanted to get between another heated argument of theirs, a second time was enough.

Natasha’s face turned to horror, she shook her head a second later and sighed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Steve had a duty to fulfill. Strength or not, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling his gown back over himself. The monitor blared a long sustained beep when he ripped the adhesive pads off his chest. Guardrail lowered, he gripped the IV pole tight. 

Weak with fatigue and muscle aches, he shuffled closer to the door on shaky legs. Steve yanked the sliding doors open, the IV pole’s wheels rolled against the hardwood of the hallway. 

Bucky still had his back turned, Natasha’s eyes widened at the sight of Steve. 

A round of ruthless coughs shattered his balance. Steve tripped on his own two feet. His grip loosened, the metal poll tipped over with a clatter. Knees met the floor, wet hacks expunged phlegm into his white knuckled fist. Breathing without an oxygen mask took every amount of energy to force his lungs to expand. 

Bucky swiveled around, the color drained from his face. “Steve!” He dropped down in front of Steve, holding him upright by each shoulder. “You shouldn’t be up.” 

Steve sucked in strained lungfuls of air, he lifted his head to meet Natasha’s eyes. “Please no mask, not like that,” he wheezed out. “Buck’s good to me. I’m good for him. We’re—” More coughs interrupted him from continuing further. 

Natasha tossed an inhaler to Bucky, he uncapped it and brought it to Steve’s mouth. “Breathe, best as you can.” 

Steve attempted a strangled deep breath. His lungs protested at first but after two puffs, the wheezing subsided to low crackles in the back of his throat. He continued on with his speech despite Bucky’s soft protests to get back into bed. “Wanna make things right— we’re taking it slow— he’s so good with me—”  
  
Bucky nodded at Natasha to pick up the IV pole. “She’s just looking out for me Steve, that’s all.” He brushed a hand over Steve’s forehead, cursing. “Okay, that’s one hell of a fever.” 

Steve slumped sideways against Bucky’s broad chest, Bucky's arms coming around to lift him up under his armpits and knees. Shivers cascaded over Steve, short spasms rocking his shoulders inward. “Buck, I‘m cold but I feel really hot.” 

“That’s the fever, sweetheart." They entered his room, Natasha not too far behind with the IV pole. 

With Natasha’s help, she and Bucky hooked Steve back to the monitors, attaching the small pads to the correct places. Bucky placed the mask over Steve’s face then pulled the blanket up to his chest, tucking it between his sides. 

Natasha left and brought a new bag of fluids back, cold this time around. “You sure are one little trooper, Steve.” 

Steve snorted, a trooper for his whole life was more like it. “Yeah, Buck basically said the same thing.” 

Bucky emerged from the bathroom, carrying a bowl of water and a washcloth. “Gonna get you feeling better in no time.” He dipped the cloth into the water, a few drops splashed on the overbed side table as he rang it out. “Wanna grab that new antibiotic we discussed?” 

Natasha tutted, swaying from side to side with both hands tucked in the pockets of her white coat. “Who's the doctor here again?”  
  
Bucky sighed, he directed Steve to lift his head and turn to the position he wanted. “You know what I mean.” 

“I’ll be back.” She flipped Bucky off when Steve had his head turned the other way. Bucky faked a shocked expression back at her when she turned for his reaction. 

Steve enjoyed the feeling of a cold wet cloth smoothing over his face. Bucky lifted his mask away momentarily to wipe around his nose and mouth. He had to sit up for Bucky to apply the calamine lotion, it clung to his gown but boy did it relieve the itchiness. Soon after, Steve drifted off, sleep tugging him under. 

Natasha came back and hung the antibiotics bag to the pole, screwing the tubing into one of the other IV ports. 

Steve napped for a good while it seemed, maybe an hour or two by his mind. Nope, the clock said only twenty minutes passed. He groaned, the itchiness, chest tightness, and overall _ick_ and _blah_ became too much. Sick, no doubt that he was. The only upside was the fact he met Peggy prior, and Bucky becoming his boyfriend of course. 

Steve coughed a couple of times, moaning out of misery and wanting everything to go away for good. 

“Babydoll,” Bucky murmured. The soft pet name rolled off his tongue seamlessly, and the sweetness of his voice sparkled fondness. He stroked his fingers through Steve’s sweaty hair, untangling the matted strands. 

“Mmm, wha’?” Steve croaked, voice cracking. He turned and came into contact with Bucky’s hand. “You callin’ me baby again?” 

A wholehearted soft laugh crinkled the corners of Bucky’s eyes, adorable breaths between each chuckle. “Yeah, you could say I reserve that for when it’s just you and me.” 

“S’good, I like it.” 

Bucky hummed, shifting in his chair and leaning his arms over the guardrail. “I’d like to give you a bath but I’m not sure if you’re up for it.” 

The suggestion perked Steve up, no longer sleepy. All the sweat and medicated lotion built up like watered down mud. “You’d do that for me?” 

“Mm, yup. Anything for my guy, ‘specially when sick.” He looked at Steve with care, absently tapping the guardrail. “Might make you feel a little better. What’dya say?” 

“Oh I’d love to but I don't think I’ve got enough energy, let alone stand on my own two feet. And what about all the wires and stuff?” 

Bucky patted Steve’s blanket covered lower calf as he stood up. “I’ll take care of that.” 

Whoa, whoa wait, what did Steve just agree to? Bucky volunteered and Steve nodded without thinking of the most obvious thing. He’d see Steve naked for the first time, and that factor made his heart soar. A little timid blush reddened his cheeks. Just his boyfriend giving him a bath, nothing to it. 

Shuri’s voice echoed across the hall, Bucky leaned his entire body out the door, hands gripping the frame. “Yeah, I’m taking it off so don’t be alarmed like as if he’s makin’ a run for it again.” A few other nurses laughed along with Shuri, she talked about replacing the old bedsheets with fresh ones. 

Someone handed Bucky a folded gown and rolled a portable oxygen tank out. Bucky thanked them before pulling the curtain shut. He carried everything into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked. Water ran in the background, drawers opened and closed between a humming tune. Paper ripped, a sprinkle of something hit the water. 

Bucky came out, lips curved into a soft smile. “Ready, baby?” 

“Always, Buck.” 

Bucky lowered the bed to a comfortable height so Steve’s feet could touch the ground. He sat up and swung his legs over the side. Bucky silenced the heart monitor and took the patches off one by one, along with the finger clip. 

Next came the oxygen mask. Before Steve had enough time to process a question, Bucky sensed his hesitation. “I’ll get you hooked up to the cannula once we’re inside.”  
  
Steve stayed silent, concentrating on not falling over. “Hold onto this.” The metal pole brushed against the side of his knee. “I’m gonna lift you up and I want you to sling your right arm over my neck.” Bucky crouched to Steve’s height, clasping his hand strung over his shoulder and wrapping an arm around Steve's back. 

Steve’s legs trembled when he stood. “Buck—”  
  
“I won’t let you fall. Lean into me.” Steve shifted, pressing his side flush against Bucky’s. “There you go.”

As promised, Steve hadn’t fallen and Bucky safely got him to sit down on a chair beside the tub. Light brown streaks clouded the water, an open packet labeled ‘oatmeal soak’ was on the ledge. 

Bucky guided the cannula prongs into Steve’s nose, fitting the tubing snug behind his ears and sliding the clip up to his chin. At first, Steve wrinkled his nose at the sensation but cool oxygen flowing through brought relief immediately. He inhaled through his nose, savoring the feel of it reaching his lungs. 

The still running water ceased with a squeak of a nob. Bucky turned to kneel in front of Steve. Steve’s breath hitched and it definitely wasn’t from the pneumonia. Something sparked between them at that very moment. Just the two of them, sharing an intimate moment together for the first time in their newfound relationship. 

Bucky cupped Steve’s cheek, brushing his thumb gently over smooth skin. “Hey...” His voice was rough as gravel yet smooth as silk, a quiet whisper in the small enclosed bathroom. “You’re beautiful.” 

Steve’s cheeks bunched under Bucky’s hand, lips upturned. With watery eyes, a stray tear slid down. Bucky swiped it away. “Buck...” 

“Is it your first time being close to someone like this?” 

“Yeah,” Steve breathed out a wobbly exhale. “Little nervous but I want to.” 

Bucky lifted Steve’s IV inserted hand and kissed his knuckles, a couple soft pecks to either side. “That’s okay. Intimacy doesn’t always have to be sexual.” 

Steve gave a short nod, blinking away extra tears. “Much as I love this, I’m kinda sitting in my own grime.” 

Bucky dropped his hand and laughed, soft chuckles between his wide smile. “Let’s fix that, shall we?” 

He bowed forward for Bucky to untie the gown’s loose strings from the back. It slid off, revealing blotchy red skin. Shimmying out of his boxers felt the most intimate, though Steve trusted Bucky with his life. 

“Gonna lift you under your arms and knees, keep both hands around my neck.” 

Combined with Steve’s weight and Bucky’s killer biceps, he picked Steve up without a sweat. The oxygen tank sat in the corner, tubing long enough to reach the tub. Bucky lowered him gently into the water while making sure the tubing wasn’t getting tangled. He let go once Steve was fully submerged.

Steve hissed in pleasure, warm but not too cold water surrounded his body. The oatmeal soothed his irritated skin, he slid further down to submerge his back, careful to keep his IV’d hand on the ledge. Water splashed out the tub between ripples from his movement. 

Bucky tapped the side of the tub to grab his attention. “I’ll let you soak for a few minutes while I grab some towels.” 

Steve merely hummed, enjoying the warmth too much to care. He closed his eyes and for the first time since staying at the hospital, he dozed off in peace. Napping in a giant tub surrounded by warm medicated water was blissful. 

Maybe ten to fifteen minutes had gone by when Bucky returned, setting a couple of towels aside on the chair. Bucky rolled his sleeves above his elbows and knelt down. “Falling asleep on me?” 

Steve shifted his legs beneath the water, stretching them out all the way. “Too good not to.” 

Bucky snorted, he dipped a cloth into the water and rang it out. “Sit up a bit.” 

Steve rose up with a firm grip on the ledge, sighing when the soap lathered cloth rubbed into his itchy broke out back. Scratching with his nails was a fine struggle but a soft cloth touched every single irritating spot. Bucky ran the cloth up to his shoulders, adding slight pressure to massage his blotchy skin. 

“Feels good, huh?” Bucky took a handheld sprayer off the wall and turned it to a gentle mist setting. He rinsed the soap off the cloth and added more to it. 

“Mmhmm, so good.” 

Bucky held Steve’s arms in the palm of his hand as he scrubbed all the grime away. Avoiding the IV site, he went from his armpits down to his hand, gently scrubbing every nook and cranny. He repeated the motion with Steve’s legs and feet. After lathering his stomach and back, Bucky handed him the cloth with a wink and turned away. 

Water ran from the sink, filling a small paper cup. Steve cleared his throat to let Bucky know he could turn back. 

“Water?” Bucky sat on the ledge, holding the cup in front of Steve. 

“Yes please,” Steve said, tipping his head back for Bucky to press the rim of the cup against his lips. Cool refreshing liquid eased down his throat, eliminating the lingering taste of vomit from earlier. 

Bucky picked the sprayer back up and turned it to a higher setting. A mild shower spray trickled the suds away from Steve’s body, droplets slid down his clean baby smooth skin. 

Bucky nudged Steve’s head down, he complied. “Cover your eyes.” 

Bucky tilted the sprayer above Steve’s head, water splashed below his neck. Steve fought an urge to moan at the sensation. He instead breathed out a short wheezy sigh, the steady pressure relaxed every tense muscle in his body. Bucky combed his fingers through tangled wet strands and parted the front bangs aside. 

A shampoo bottle clicked open. Bucky squeezed a generous amount into his palm and rubbed both hands together. Bucky’s sensual fingers massaged Steve’s scalp as he worked the shampoo through short blonde strands, building up a thick soapy lather. 

Steve could sit right there under Bucky’s warmhearted care forever. Though sitting in dirty water while it became a chilly degree ceased that thought. 

Bucky rinsed the suds out with the mist setting, using his unoccupied hand to wipe away any remaining soap. He took out a fresh cloth and wet it with the sprayer. “Tilt your head up.” 

Steve focused his gaze up at Bucky beneath wet eyelashes. A soft washcloth smoothed over his cheeks, a gentle wipe over his forehead and down his neck. Bucky had nothing but compassion on his face, wearing a gentle smile. 

“Lookin’ better already.” Bucky rang both clothes out and tossed them in a bin. He opened the drain and turned the sprayer on once more, washing Steve off with any leftover oatmeal bits. 

“Feels good to be clean too.” 

Bucky unfolded a large fuzzy towel, placing another smaller one on the ground beside the tub. He put a medium sized towel over his shoulder and held the big one out, swaddling Steve in it. “Let’s get you outta there.” 

Bucky hooked one hand under Steve’s knees and the other around Steve’s waist. He lifted Steve gingerly and sat him down on the chair. Taking the towel off his shoulder, he covered Steve’s head with it. Steve looked down to give Bucky more access to dry his wet hair. Bucky soaked up most of the water until Steve’s damp hair spiked up. 

Inside the sealed package with a new gown was a pair of slip resistant gripper socks. “Those better be my size.” 

“Sure is, babydoll.” Bucky rolled the socks up Steve’s ankles then took the gown out. Bucky slipped the sleeves through his arms, covering it around his torso then tying a bow in the back. He helped Steve slip into a fresh pair of underwear. “Look at you, all clean and refreshed.” 

Steve gripped the IV pole, noticing the cannula tubing brushing his forearm as he did so. “Can I keep wearing this instead of the mask?” 

Bucky mused for a second then nodded his head. “Mmm alright, we’ll see how you do with it. Though if Natasha yells at me, it’s on you cause I can’t resist ya,” he said. “But I’m still gonna switch you to the mask at night. It’s better for you when sleeping” 

Good as Steve would get, he’d take it. “That’s good with me, Buck” 

Bucky opened the door. “Well look who’s here.” He turned and rolled the oxygen tank a few feet outside. “Gimme a hand, will ya?” 

Before Steve could ask who it was, Bucky picked him up in a bridal carry. He gasped at the sudden loss of balance before going slack in Bucky’s arms. “Buck! Warn a guy.”  
  
Steve felt a low rumble coming from Bucky’s chest, soft laughter in the mix of the other person speaking. 

“Oh I see it, you’re just tryin’ to impress me. Nah, nah go on. I’ll handle it.” 

Steve flicked his attention over. “Sam? Thought you had a long shift today.” 

“Managed to get out sooner so I could come and see you.” Sam took the IV stand and tank and rolled them over to the bed with Bucky not too far behind. “Brought you a couple of things from the apartment too.” 

Bucky lowered Steve onto the bed and began placing the heart monitor pads back on his chest. “What of?” 

“Thought you might be bored during the day so I grabbed your favorite sketchbook and a big set of pencils,” Sam said, taking the items out of a bag. “Got you a new throw blanket too.” 

Steve took the offered art supplies and set them on the side table. “Thanks, that'll definitely keep me occupied.” 

Sam snorted and sat down on a guest chair. “Oh, I think you’ve been occupied alright.” He gestured toward Bucky with a slight tilted nod then shrugged. “Even throughout your current state and all.” 

Bucky went back into the bathroom in silence, water ran and he came out drying his hands with his sleeves down. “That’s one hell of an understatement.” 

Sam blinked slowly and raised a single brow. “How so?” 

Steve groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Please don’t.”  
  
Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, he patted Steve’s leg. “I’m telling him because I care about you, punk.” He looked at Sam straight faced. “He got outta bed and fell.”  
  
“What? Steve!”  
  
Steve stayed silent, head bowed.

Bucky rubbed Steve’s lower thigh, squeezing once. “But before that, he had an allergic reaction to the antibiotic. Hives and everything.”

Sam’s mouth parted, jaw slack. He shook his head. “You need to get him a life alert.” 

Bucky snorted at the joke but Steve threw his head back against the pillow, sighing. It turned into a short coughing fit, springing him forward. Bucky patted his back until it subsided while Sam winced sympathetically. “Can I ever get any rest?” 

“How ‘bout I grab us some food from across the street? Some soup maybe?” Bucky suggested. “Then you can tuck in for the night.” 

After everything he’d been through today, food sounded amazing. Even better, a deliciously warm and rich soup filled with soft carrots and celery. “Chicken noodle.” 

Over across the room, a faint whine came from Sam, a sympathetic frown plastered over his face. Bucky whipped his head sharply at the noise. “That’s his favorite comfort food when he’s feeling sicker than he’d like to admit.” 

Steve tugged the blanket up to his chin and bunched both fists into the fabric, huddling further in on himself. Chicken noodle soup became a standard whenever he’d catch another strain of the flu during the cold winter months in his childhood. His ma would make a homemade version and feed it to him in bed, whether he had the strength to feed himself or not. 

The nostalgia brought back all the memories with his ma, the good when she’d care for him and the bad during another stressful doctor's visit. God he missed Sarah. 

But Sam wasn’t wrong about him in the slightest. After the bath, Steve had put on a tough fake smile. Even for Bucky. The bath’s warmth had sugar coated most of his symptoms and it had been easy to block out of his mind. Afterward, they returned with vengeance to remind him of the present. Every sharp wheeze, muscle ache, and chest tightness highlighted themselves in shreds. Wetness dared to escape the corners of Steve’s sorrowful downcasted eyes. 

Bucky massaged a pattern of strokes up and down the length of Steve’s left shoulder. “That true, sweetheart?” 

Steve sniffled and rubbed away an absent tear, thanking whatever gods that gave him Sam and Bucky to be in his life. “It is,” he whispered, meeting Bucky’s soft worrying eyes. 

Sam stood from his chair and walked toward the two. “If it’s any consultation, I can stay with him while you make the food run.” 

Bucky turned to Sam, humming out of thought. “That would be great, thanks. You want anything?” 

“Nah, I’ll take a raincheck.” Sam sat on the opposite side of Bucky. “Should probably make it home after you get back and let this one rest,” he said, nudging Steve’s blanket covered foot. 

With both hands, Bucky cradled Steve’s cheeks and placed a chaste kiss upon the center of his forehead. “Don’t do anything stupid ‘till I get back,” he murmured softly with lips resting close to Steve’s overheated skin. 

Steve sighed in contentment then broke out into a fit of laughter. “How can I? I’m stuck in bed under supervision. Plus, you're taking all the stupid with you.” 

Bucky huffed a snort, shaking his head before landing a kiss against Steve’s lips. “You’re a little punk, you know that?” 

Sam whistled and grabbed both of their attention. “You two are something.” 

Steve chuckled at the short comment yet Bucky’s cheeks blushed harder than a ripe apple. “Alright, I’ll be goin’ now.” 

The room fell silent after Bucky left. Only the sound of Steve’s pencil against bristol paper and the heart monitor beeps filled the gap. 

Sam broke the lingering quiet. “How you found yourself with a guy like him, I wouldn’t know.”

Steve lifted his head from his sketchbook, pausing from sketching. “You found the place and practically forced me to go.” He resumed back, contouring a portrait of Bucky. 

“That I did but the fact that he’s—” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “So dedicated to you is something else. You’re lucky to have someone like that.” 

The thought of Bucky committing to his needs every step of the way unconditionally hadn’t occurred to Steve until right then. He got closer to Bucky and he in turn began caring for Steve in a different way than when they first met. A compassionate kindness, almost like a guardianship. 

Steve closed his sketchbook, the portrait of Bucky left half drawn. Chest pain distracted him from his focus, too worn out to finish it. “Yeah,” he mused, closing his eyes with his head against the pillow. “I am.” 

Sam heaved a long drawn out sigh, leaning back against the footboard. “Kinda wish I had someone like him.”

An idea popped inside Steve’s head. “You should ask Riley out.” 

Sam sputtered, eyes wide with panic, and sat up straight. “Are you insane? No!” 

“You’ve been a close friend with him longer than I have. All it takes is one question.” The door behind the curtain slid open, Steve fixed his gaze on it. “Might surprise you.” 

An aroma of chicken and spices filled the room. Bucky smiled at Steve. “Hey, sweetheart.” 

Sam shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. Well, I better get going and let you eat.” He stood and wrapped both arms around Steve’s shoulders, patting his back lightly. “Feel better man."

Sam turned to address Bucky. “And you,” he began, pointing at Steve. “Keep him out of trouble.” 

Bucky chuckled as he took a sealed bowl and a square container out of a paper bag, placing them on the side table. “I’ll try but I make no promises.” 

Sam waved before closing the curtain back. “It was nice seein’ ya’ll,” he said, getting a series of goodbyes from Steve and Bucky. 

Bucky unwrapped a spoon from its packaging. “How’re you feeling, baby?”  
  
Steve pressed and held the up arrow button on the bed’s controls. “Better now that you’re back.”  
  
“Hm, you look a little more flushed than when I left.” Bucky diverted his focus to the monitors. “Your oxygen levels are down a bit too. Why don’t we switch you to the mask after you’re done eating?” 

Steve fiddled with the blanket, breathing out a short sigh. “Okay, but on one condition.” 

“And that is?”  
  
“Feed me.” 

“Oh, feed you huh?” Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the side table closer, winking with a sly smirk. “I think that can be arranged.” 

Inside one container was a sandwich melt cut into four triangles. The other, a bowl full of steaming chicken noodle soup as promised. Bucky dumped the remaining contents of the bag and out landed a handful of saltine cracker packets, a few napkins, and a giant cookie. 

Steve eyed the cookie and dared a thought to snatch it. “Chocolate chip I hope?” 

Bucky stirred the soup and lifted the container up with a napkin underneath. He placed another on Steve’s chest. “Only the best.” 

Bucky brought a plastic spoon up to Steve’s mouth, the warm and comforting flavors awoken his taste buds. “I could eat this all day, where’d you get it?” 

“A little corner bistro,” Bucky said, swapping the bowl for a sandwich half. “I stop by there sometimes when I’m too lazy to pack lunch.” 

“If you continue bringing me this for my whole stay, I won’t complain.” 

Bucky lifted the spoon up to Steve’s lips, smiling as he did so. “Anything for my babydoll.” 

They took turns eating, a couple spoonfuls of soup for Steve and a few bites of the sandwich for Bucky. Towards the tail end, Steve had plenty enough after a whole bowl of soup. He refused the smaller piece of the sandwich Bucky offered. The cookie seemed tempting, but it could wait. After all, he wanted to savor it, not wolf it down like the second his eyes laid upon it. The melted chocolate chips looked so gooey. 

Steve’s eyelids drooped, feeling the drowsiness increase by the minute. Halfway through the meal, he’d started coughing between a few bites. Nighttime always made illnesses worse. 

Bucky had stepped out to throw away their trash, so the curtain drawing back didn’t phase him. “Hey, Stevie.” He took an oxygen mask down from the wall, untangling the tubing. “Let’s get you on the mask so you can sleep.”  
  
A standard mask was a vast change from the small cannula but being able to breathe easier made up for it. Although breathing overall downright hurt. More so than the early evening. An alarm of panic startled Steve, if a similar occurrence happened again, no doubt he’d get rushed to the actual ICU ward. Then he’d most likely get intubated, something he wanted to avoid at all costs if possible. 

Steve snaked a hand out to grab Bucky’s wrist where he currently fiddled with the IV controls. The words wouldn’t come, he stared wide eyed at Bucky with his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. 

“Stevie?” Bucky dropped down on one knee and leaned over the bed, brushing Steve’s fresh clean hair back. “What’s wrong baby?” 

“Hurts to breathe.” Every chest muscle objected a painless inhale, his lungs straining to expand for a larger intake of breath. “‘M scared Buck, everything hurts. I feel miserable.” 

Bucky frowned with a soft sympathetic coo. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You don’t make illnesses easy, do you? Lemme get you something for it.” He reached for the nurse call button but Steve stopped him from doing so. “Babydoll...you shouldn’t have to suffer.” 

“Are you going to sedate me?” Steve tried to raise his voice but a squeaky strained yelp came out instead. 

Wrong question apparently, Bucky’s soft faced worry morphed into horror. “Oh— is that what they did to you?” He grumbled a curse under his breath when Steve nodded. “No. Never if it isn’t necessary, just something to take the edge off.” 

“I—I trust you but I thought—” 

Bucky kissed away the lone tears beginning to pour from Steve’s eyes. “Steve, I would never, ever do that to you or any of my patients. It’s inhumane to throw drugs at every little problem. Those people had no right to do that to you.” 

Steve lunged forward, colliding into Bucky’s chest. He tightened his grip around Bucky’s middle, quiet broken sobs expelled free flowing tears. His breath hitched against the crook of Bucky’s neck. 

“Shh, hush babydoll.” This time, Bucky pressed the call button without getting an objection. He rubbed soothing circles over Steve’s back. “I know you trust me. It’s okay. Trauma does that to you, it’ll trigger bad memories at any given time.” 

An on duty nurse entered the room. Bucky adjusted himself and climbed up a little further to hold Steve’s crying form in his arms. “Shuri, can you get him a pain reliever? Go ahead and get his nightly treatment meds too.” 

The sobs gradually came to a stop. Steve rested his cheek on Bucky’s shoulder, absently brushing a hand through his long strands of hair. “So glad you’re here.” 

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” Bucky crooned with his lips pressed to the top of Steve’s head, softly patting his back. 

Shuri arrived with the provided medicine, a syringe, and a vial of albuterol. “How’s our trooper of a patient?” 

Steve’s groan turned into a snort. “Natasha told you that?” He held his IV’d hand out for Shuri to connect the syringe to the port. “All things considered, I’ve got this guy by my side.” 

Bucky helped Shuri assemble the nebulizer, reaching over Steve who huddled up close, not showing any signs of moving. “That you do.” 

Shuri’s face grew into a wide smile, a quiet laugh at the two cuddled up together. “Need anything else?”  
  
“Think this covers it.” Bucky flipped the on switch, a hum filling the room. “Thanks, Shuri.” 

Steve adjusted his head a bit, finding the right angle to get comfortable with a mask over his face. He settled to slump against Bucky’s broad chest, his cheek directly over Bucky’s heart. The strong steady thump soothed Steve as if it were a lullaby. 

Beneath him, Bucky hummed a nonsensical tune while they swayed to and front. 

“How’s that working, babydoll?” 

Steve closed his eyes and inhaled another deep breath, feeling the medicated mist filling his lungs. “Amazing.” 

The wrapped cookie on the side table grabbed Steve’s attention. Breathing treatments sometimes made him extra hungry afterward. No time like the present. 

“Buck?” 

“Yeah, Stevie?”  
  
Steve reached over to the end of the bed, taking his sketchbook in hand. “Can you stay right here after the treatment is finished? Maybe share the cookie with me while I show you something in here?” 

Bucky’s smile widened far as his cheeks would allow. “I’d love that. You don’t have to ask me twice for extra cuddles.” 

The mask sputtered after fifteen minutes. Bucky turned the machine off and replaced it with an oxygen mask, keeping it turned aside Steve's neck while they ate.

“Here.” Bucky tore off a section of the cookie, holding up to Steve’s lips. “I’ll feed you so you don’t get chocolate all over the pages.” 

Steve opened his mouth for the offered treat, crunching the gooey chocolaty dessert. “Fair warning, this isn’t the sketchbook with my comic series.” He brushed the cover with his knuckles. “It’s kinda personal but I trust you enough to share it with you.” 

“Anything you draw is amazing, Stevie.” Bucky ate his own large portion of the sugary dessert. “I’m happy you’re sharing this with me.” 

Inside the first page, a graphite headshot portrait of Bucky, hair pulled into a bun and wearing a scrub top. 

Bucky made an awed surprised noise in the back of his throat. “The third time we met. Baby, it’s beautiful.” 

“Yeah, you kinda distracted me from working on my main projects,” Steve chuckled, turning a page. “Most of what’s in here is you but there’s a few pages of Clint, Wanda, Thor, Sam, Natasha, and Pietro.” 

“How you’re not a published artist, I wouldn’t know,” Bucky said, looking over a series of rough sketches of himself and Natasha. 

“Really wish I was,” Steve sighed between a mouthful of cookie, turning another page full of side shots of Bucky. 

Bucky hummed then clicked his tongue. “You know I’ve got a patient who owns a publishing company? Well, technically they’re the parent of my patient. But I could ask them about it for you?” 

Steve dropped his sketchbook dramatically, jaw dropped open. “Okay first of all, why didn’t you tell me about that before. And second of all, you would do that for me?” 

“Sweetheart, I’d be delighted to.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, a small blush on his cheeks. “But um, the reason? You might’ve flipped out and made a run for it if I’d told you who it was.” 

“Okay?” Steve shrugged his shoulders, eyebrows stretched together. “So who is it?” 

“Tony Stark.”  
  
“Tony fucking Stark?” Steve yelled, regretting it immediately as coughs overcame him. Bucky patted his back, a short whisper of reassurance. “Stark Industries is like the greatest publishing agency of New York. I’ve never even tried because I’ve heard it’s hard to get published with them.” A thought crossed his mind. “Wait, he doesn’t go to some fancy upscale practice instead? 

Bucky laughed softly at Steve’s flustered appearance. “No, Pepper Potts does not like rich upscale doctors. They came to me directly soon after their daughter was born.” 

“That’s interesting.” Steve snuggled closer into Bucky’s arms. “So you’ll really mention something for me?”  
  
“Even better, how ‘bout I show you that drawing you showed me at our second appointment? The one with the lightning?” 

“Buck, you’re killing me here.” 

“I care about you Stevie, I wanna see you succeed.” Bucky kissed the side of his cheek, peppering a couple more. “You deserve it.” 

Steve sighed, staring at his IV’d hand. “Let’s hope I get over this thing so you can do that.” 

“We’ll get you back to good health, I promise you.” Bucky tossed the sketchbook and cookie onto the side table, placing the mask back on Steve's face. “You should sleep in your own bed tonight, ‘kay? I’ll stay right here ‘till you fall asleep.” 

“Mmm, okay. Night Buck.” 

* * *

Steve’s calm undisturbed sleep exploded in his face. The dead of the night turned into a calamity, a once quiet room became noisy. Every monitor went off, continuous monotone beeps sounding their alarms. 

Sharp ear splitting coughs, enough to damage one’s throat as if they were screaming. Gasps of breath between them, unable to come up with any air. As if the airways were blocked by something. Pitch black darkness, eyes squeezed shut between furious body wrecking wet hacks. 

Painfully hot soreness coated the esophagus, swallowing was non existent. The coughs never relented, they only strangled each choking inhale. 

Only now did Steve realize those noises were coming from _him_. 

He never proceeded with what happened so fast. His body went into autopilot, springing him up and out of bed past the raised guardrail. The tubing and wires got tangled from his abrupt movement but he paid no attention. His feet touched the ground, legs sprinting forward. 

Suddenly he found himself buried in the arms of Bucky who lay slumped on a reclined armchair, barely awake as it is. Steve’s gasping breaths and ringing ears smothered the voice above him, but he vaguely made some of them out. 

“ _Holy shit_ — _Steve_ — Baby, I’m here, right here. I’ve got you. I know, I know baby. It’s okay, you’re alright. I'm gonna make it all better.” 

Bucky uttered more words of comfort into Steve’s ear like a mantra, rubbing soothing circles on his back between pats. The coughing dwindled ever so slowly, down to clearing his throat between small rasps. Whatever just happened, resembled dying, Steve was sure of it. 

“Buck, I— I lo—” The big ‘L’ bomb almost slipped out though he slammed his mouth shut, too scared to say it within the scary tense moment. 

He pressed his cheek to Bucky’s neck, the smell of his shampoo calming him from his adrenaline high. His throat was on fire. Swallowing caused a tight lipped scowl of a painful wince between clutching Bucky’s shirt with a tight fist. 

“Stevie?” Bucky splayed a hand over his neck, fingers brushing the bottom strands of hair. “You okay now, doll?” 

“Water,” Steve croaked out, an unfamiliar voice startling himself to back away a few inches. He couldn’t believe he managed to get out of bed let alone jumping into Bucky’s arms. It felt like teleporting, his body in a different time and space. “Wha’ jus’ happen’d?” 

Bucky lifted the spout from a metal tumbler and held it to Steve’s lips, tilting it up slightly. “Mm, think you choked on some buildup mucus.” 

Steve pushed the cup back, nodding to let Bucky know he had enough. A wheeze slipped out when he opened his mouth to speak, a familiar crackle tickled his chest. “Thought I was dyin’” 

Bucky rifled through Steve’s backpack and took an inhaler and spacer out, the same one he’d given him back at the clinic. “You’re not dying on my watch, babydoll. Here, take a shot of this.” 

Steve slid the oxygen mask down to rest against the side of his neck. The spacer settled over his nose and mouth, he took a slow breath in, tasting the bitter medicine on the tip of his tongue. It reached down to his lungs, feeling his breathing even out. 

Steve’s eyes drooped during the second puff, Bucky’s measured deep breaths lulling him back to sleep. Bucky replaced the mask and tossed the device aside after and wrapped both arms around Steve’s torso and legs, planting a single foot on the ground. The movement startled Steve back to consciousness, grasping Bucky’s neck for dear life. “No, no, I need you. Please don’t go.” 

“Shh, okay sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. Just thought you’d want to get back into bed.” Bucky leaned back into the chair, settling them into a comforting position by placing Steve sideways in his lap, legs hanging over the armrest with his head against Bucky’s chest. He pulled a fleece blanket off the bed and wrapped it around both of them. 

“Let’s rock, hm? Maybe that’ll help, babydoll.” Bucky started a slow pace, pressing his tiptoes down and lifting up, rocking while cooing soft words. 

Silence filled between them, quiet medical equipment beeping and chair squeaking created a calm background noise. Peace, in the arms of Steve’s lover. 

Bucky took a deep breathy sigh in and let it out with a huff, he pressed his lips to Steve’s temple. “I never wanted anything like this to happen to you. It isn’t fair, no one should go through something like this. You should be dreaming of becoming the next best selling author.” 

Steve lifted his head to stare up at Bucky. He could swear a tear fell from one of Bucky’s eyes. Another fell, he wasn’t seeing things. Bucky was crying out of _love_ for him. “You don’t have to cry for me but I will admit, you’re kinda cute when you cry.” 

That broke Bucky out in a fit of soft laughter between sniffles. He pulled Steve closer and leaned to press his lips to Steve’s. They breathed together as one throughout the kiss, nothing too crazy but with enough passion filled with love. 

When they came up for air, Bucky rested their foreheads together. “Nah, you’re the cute one, doll.” 

Steve slipped another kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “Buck I— I have a confession.” Bucky rumbled a questioning hum, pressing him to go forth with it. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. It’s so easy to be with you and—” 

“Yeah, I feel the same way. Actually, I’ve got a confession of my own. I think I might be—”  
  
“I love you.” 

This time, it hadn’t slipped out of his mouth, Steve said it without any hesitance. By now, he was sure of his feelings and already had an irking suspicion of Bucky’s. What he’d cut Bucky off of may just be the same. 

Like a pen jabbing into a large inflated balloon, the sexual tension between them popped up into thin air. 

Bucky surged forward and laid the most passionate kiss of all mankind to Steve’s lips. As if he was on a mission to rip Steve right out of his own body. Steve gasped, breathing in a relieved moan between a sigh, he turned his head to deepen the kiss. 

“I love you too, Stevie,” Bucky said amongst a sloppy wet kiss, the sound overlapping the sounds of the heart monitor. “You mean so much to me sweetheart, fuck you’re— you’re so goddamn gorgeous you make me go crazy.” 

Hearing Bucky say those words with such solid certainty sored Steve’s heart emotionally with literal palpitations against his chest. “You make me just a little bit crazy too so you’re not alone—” A cough rippled through, one led after another. 

“I know, sweetheart. We’re both heads over heels for each other.” Bucky patted Steve’s back throughout the short fit. “Baby, Nat, and I will get you feeling better in no time. And I swear to you, I’ll take you out somewhere once this is all over. A vacation with just the two of us, how does that sound?” 

“A vacation huh?” Going somewhere with Bucky sounds so amazing, he damn well better make an improvement soon or he’d go just to get away from the boring four white walls surrounding him. “You’re already treating me so well, I couldn’t ask for more honestly. But Buck?”  
  
Bucky hummed, settling the blanket back over them that had slid away during their makeout session. “What is it, sweet thing?”  
  
“The rate you've been kissin’ me, you’ll be sick too.”

“Then I’ll deal with it ‘cause you’re worth it.”

Steve slept through the rest of the night uninterrupted, body wrapped entirely around Bucky, his great big love. In the morning, Bucky would feed him breakfast and nurse him back to health as he always did. 

He looked forward to that vacation. 

* * *

A few days worth of rest, medicine, and fluids did Steve wonders. He felt a thousand times better than the initial day he’d woken up. Although it didn’t mean he was out of the woods yet, coughing fits still lingered every now and then but for the most part, they subsided. 

Afternoon naps became his best friend but any little noise sounds twice as loud to his ears. 

“I just need to check his—”

“Shush, he’s asleep Nat.” 

“On that uncomfortable recliner?” Natasha asked, brows furrowing. “And did you just ‘ _shush’_ me?” 

Natasha made it to Steve’s list of top three doctors he’d ever met but right now she was pushing the limit. Negative score for her. Positive score for Bucky. Naps were sweet but now he was fully awake, unable to go back to sleep. 

“Yeah, I did.” Bucky toned his laughter down but the rumble still made it to Steve’s oversensitive ears. “He wanted to get out of the bed. Plus he needs to move around some, you know he does.” 

Natasha drew out a long drawn out sigh. “Alright fine. He’s too cute to wake anyways. I’ve gotta run because someone’s gotta be around to fill in your shoes. Check on him for me and report back?”

“Oh yeah, super cute.” Bucky clicked his tongue. “Go ahead, I’ll take care of it.” 

The door slipped shut. 

Steve yawned, stretching his entire body with arms above his head. “She's gone?” 

Bucky halted in front of the door where he waved Natasha off. “You’ve been awake this whole time?” 

“Can’t sleep when you’re calling me cute,” Steve said with a flirtatious grin. 

“Mhm, you’re adorable all right.” Bucky rummaged through his own bag he’d brought a couple of days prior, pulling a stethoscope out. 

Steve’s wide eyes filled with desire focused on the object. Licking his lips with a gulp, he released a deep breathy sound, boarder lining a moan. A goner from then on. 

“Steve? It's alright I’m just going to—” Bucky stopped himself mid sentence, falling onto his knees beside the recliner, a smile forming on his face. “Wait, you find it attractive.” His voice turned to an alluring level. “Don’t you?” 

Steve nodded, diverting his attention from the object to meet Bucky’s eyes. “A lot.” 

Bucky slowly skimmed a hand up Steve’s arm, fingers draping the gown to his midsection. He looked deep into Steve’s eyes, a silent question to obtain permission before acting “Is this okay?” 

“Very okay.” Steve tugged Bucky’s arm, urging him to come closer. 

Bucky settled on the recliner, sitting on his haunches between Steve’s spread out legs. With the ear tips inserted, he held the metal end above an inch from Steve’s chest. “May I?” 

Steve gave Bucky an okay with a nod. He would always let Bucky listen to his heart, anytime, any day. He loved it, especially now since they could do it without any awkwardness of being in a professional setting. 

Bucky towered over him like always, fingers brushing Steve’s skin. The heart monitor leds came off yesterday now that he wasn’t in the danger zone. Breathing became so much easier, taking a single inhale felt like breathing for the first time. Warm smooth metal settled against his chest, a hand resting on his waist. 

“Give me some breaths, babydoll,” Bucky whispered with a sweet breathtaking voice, his charm so bright. 

Every pet name Bucky used gave Steve’s heart a flutter. Either Bucky knew exactly what he was doing or Steve had a pet name kink. Given his lustful thoughts of Bucky in the very back of his mind, he probably does. Who wouldn’t resist Bucky like that? _Sweetheart, babydoll, baby, doll, sweet thing._

Bucky gilded the metal end from one area to the next, eyes closed to focus on listening carefully. He flattened his hand entirely against one area, the end piece slotted between his middle and pointer finger. 

“Deep breath in.”

Steve inhaled. 

“Deep breath out.”

Steve exhaled.

“Good, a couple more times.” 

Bucky tore the stethoscope from his ears. “I’ll have to tell Nat and see what she thinks but you’ll probably be able to go home in a couple days,” he said. “With daily nebulizer treatments, you’ll be good to go. Hardly any crackles in there.” 

“About time.” 

After a long beat of silence, Bucky said, “I want to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me.”

Steve moaned into the kiss as Bucky leaned further in, lips parting ever so slightly. Right as they began their make out season, the door opened. 

Sam covered his eyes. “Can I not walk in every time you two are fondling each other?” 

“Sorry,” Bucky laughed, climbing off the chair. 

“How’ve you been, Steve?” Sam asked. 

“Much better.” Steve grabbed his cup of water from the side table and took a sip. 

Sam sat at the end of the bed. “Good to see you more lively.”

“Mmhm, thanks.” 

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "Sam, I've been asking Steve this but he keeps dodging the question. How'd he discover my practice?" 

Honestly, Steve knew he was better of telling Bucky himself but the sheepish thought of Bucky's face knowing Sam technically set them up procrastinated his answer. 

Sam beat him to it, a wide grin between a short cackle. "Call me a matchmaker of sorts." 

"What?" Bucky looked at Steve, who smiled with a nod. "So Steve didn't voluntarily come t me?"   
  
"Nope, practically had to force him to go," Sam said, still laughing. "But look where it got him." 

'Yeah, laugh it up, matchmaker." Steve motioned Bucky to sit beside him, he took Bucky's hand when he did. "I'm glad I went. Think I became a better person too. Because of you, Buck." 

Bucky touched a gentle kiss to Steve's knuckles, looking up at him between long lashes. "We're better together, sweetheart." 

Going to a new doctor was the best decision Steve ever made. Once he could get released from the hospital, that vacation somewhere, maybe a beach, would be truly amazing. Plus, possibly getting published by New York's best publishing agency? Even better.

Getting published, going on vacation with his boyfriend, and exploring a world of _new things_ he'd never experienced excited him to no end. Steve had the life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "I can eat this all day" line is so corny but I kept it anyway, I knew I had to once I wrote it down lol. 
> 
> Next Chapter: Beach vacation, more of Bucky's backstory (FINALLY I KNOW) and DID SOMEBODY SAY STARK PUBLISHING?????


	9. When the Sun Goes Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm using a Kenny Chesney song as the title haha. 
> 
> The day is here. ;_; This is a much shorter chapter than the others. I can't believe I wrote over 50k, this fic was originally going to be about 25-28k but it morphed into something much better. 
> 
> Once again THANK YOU @ EVERYONE for reading my doctor/patient AU I've always dreamed of <3 THERE WILL BE MORE as this fic is a series. (I think I've said it plenty enough but oneshots!) I kept the ending open ended if I ever decide to write a sequel one day. 
> 
> See the end notes for some warnings, Bucky's past (think canon but with a lighter modern twist) is all mentions but for good measure, I listed them below.

**_ONE MONTH LATER_ **

“You packed the nebulizer?” Bucky craned his neck over the driver's seat, checking the backseat for the dozenth time. 

Steve sighed, head knocking against the headrest. Bucky meant well and was just looking out for him, Steve knew that but Bucky slowly became a bit of a mother-hen after being released from the hospital. “Yes, it’s in the purple bag.” 

Turning around in his seat, Bucky cranked the car up, giving Steve another concerning look. “What about your inhalers?” 

“Buck, I’ve got it.” Steve held up a small bag from beneath the floorboard. “I’m good to go, Natasha said so.” 

Natasha dialed his appointments down to monthly, now he had his asthma under control for the most part. Far better than when he came in originally. Flare ups arose every now and then, especially after a horrible strain of pneumonia. 

Aside from doctor visits, Bucky offered Steve to move in with him after a handful of dates, seeing as neither of them could take being apart from each other for very long. 

Sam had no argument about the easy made decision since their apartment was rented under his name, plus he loved the idea of having it alone to himself. He and Riley became a thing and Steve wouldn’t be surprised if they moved in together soon too. 

It took a whole day to move all of Steve’s art supplies across town. Sam and Bucky hammered Steve about how many sketchbooks one artist needed. A lot, and he found their struggle to carry out the large heavy box to be amusing. 

Bucky insisted on a clean home before moving in and with as many allergies Steve had, it wouldn’t hurt to be thorough. Alpine had her own dedicated room now, Bucky built shelves for her to climb on and purchased a cat tower high as the ceiling. The fur problem was a lost cause but Bucky still tried to manage it. 

The first time they slept in the same bed, the noisy humidifier concerned Steve, for Buck'y sake. 

“Can you even sleep through the noise?” Steve had asked, scooching closer to Bucky’s chest. 

“Babydoll, I can sleep through a hurricane.” Bucky had kissed his hairline, pushing back a loose strand of hair. “But you being able to breathe is what matters most.” 

And that was the end of Steve’s worry. 

Two hours into the drive, the subject of the time before learning about each other's feelings came up. 

“Wait a second, you wanted to ask me out the day we met?” Steve tilted his head, trying to read Bucky’s face from the side. 

Bucky glanced over and nodded, a small smile on his face. “So bad, but I didn’t know how you’d take it if I had referred you to Nat. You looked so scared back then, baby.” He didn’t take his eyes off the road for the next confession. “I nearly jumped out of my skin when you had that asthma attack, you were shaking like a leaf. Taking care of you came first ‘cause something told me I had to help you get back on your feet.” 

His boyfriend was one hell of a compassionate doctor. “You’ve definitely taken good care of me, still are too.” Steve huffed between a short laugh, remembering how patient Bucky was with him. “Don’t think I could ever ask for someone more caring, Buck.” 

“Always, Stevie.” Bucky flicked his eyes over then back on the road. “I’m head over heels for you after all.”  
  
“So am I.” Steve reached over and squeezed Bucky’s knee. “Though back then, I nearly convinced myself that it was crazy for a doctor to like one of their patients.” 

“Not crazy.” Bucky glanced over once more, smile bright as the hot sun gleaming down on them. “Just crazy for you.” 

The nostalgia of their early days together brought up a memory. Steve looked out the window, fiddling with his jacket zipper. “You remember that day I ran out on short notice?” 

Bucky hummed, slowing his speed down and turning the blinker on. “Yeah, what about it?”  
  
“I told you I lost my spacer.”  
  
“Oh, that!” Bucky looked both ways before turning, they took the quiet backroads so there wasn’t too much traffic. “Never got the chance to remind you to be more careful where you put them.”  
  
“Please don’t start with that again,” Steve groaned, palm against his face. “Besides, I didn’t exactly misplace it.” 

Bucky raised a brow. “It turned up somewhere then?”  
  
Steve twiddled his thumbs. “Uhm, no,” he hesitated. “Can’t since I never lost it in the first place.” 

Bucky’s mouth parted, a quiet huff passed his lips. “That was a lie?”

"Sure was. You wondered why my heart rate was so high and I didn't know what to say so I came up with an excuse." 

“Seriously? And I bought the whole thing.” Bucky slapped the steering wheel in frustration. “Well, nice work.” 

“But that’s not the reason why I brought it up.”

“Oh?”

“You took forever getting back so I slipped out to go to the bathroom and well,” Steve shrugged. “I kinda overheard parts of your conversation with Nat.” 

The car drifted out of the lane for a second, Bucky cursed before straightening up. “You heard that?” A smidge of horror on his face. “You went an entire week knowing how I felt about you?” 

“Yup, and I drove Sam crazy the whole time.” 

“God, we’re such idiots,” Bucky laughed, shaking his head. 

“But we’re idiots _in love_.” 

* * *

“Bucky...” 

Steve halted and stared at the beauty that was Bucky’s own private beach condo. On the left, couches were decorated with blue and white cushions, light brown wooden cabinets, and such to match everything. The right side had a full kitchen with granite countertops, four dining chairs pushed into a round table off the side. 

Natural light poured out the ceiling high windows, bathing the room in a ray of yellowish orange sunshine. Steve walked over to the sliding doors leading to the balcony. The sparkling blue ocean was outright breathtaking. But that wasn’t what Steve focused on for very long. Besides the outdoor table and chairs, a giant hot tub resided in a corner. Lights draped around the four posts housing a cover above it, big enough for at least four people or plenty of room for just two. 

"This is insane." They were getting in that hot tub, Steve was adamant about it. "Why don't you come here more often?" 

Bucky sat their bags in the hall leading toward the bedrooms. He slid an arm around Steve’s midsection and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Cause I never had anyone to enjoy it with," Bucky whispered in Steve's ear, making him involuntarily shiver. "We're going to have so much fun this weekend, baby."

Steve pressed himself against Bucky, letting out a soft moan when lips met the side of his neck. Bucky ran a hand up and down his lower back. 

"Best weekend of my life." 

"Mhm." Bucky gave Steve a quick chaste kiss before pulling away. "We need to unpack first but I wanna take you down to the beach before it gets dark." 

Steve's eyes lit up. "I like the sound of that." 

They unpacked their bags and put their clothes into one of the large walk in closets. Steve packed only a few outfits and art supplies but Bucky? Bucky packed as if they planned a two week trip across the country. Dress shirts, jackets, pants, ties, scarves, and a litter of hair supplies. No wonder Bucky had good hair, he kept an absurd amount of products to manage it and they weren’t cheap in the slightest either. 

Hand in hand, they walked down the steps leading toward the beach. It was a private beach so they had the area to themselves. The tide looked to be nearing high tide, the water a few feet from them. Bucky wore a light blue floral well-tailored, button down dress shirt paired with khaki shorts. Steve bunched his pants up to his knees in case the tide washes up. 

Steve made comments about the small, quiet beach and the surrounding area and how nice the house looked from the shore. Bucky nodded and hummed in agreement, seemingly as if he was too occupied with something on his mind. 

Bucky stopped walking and pulled Steve closer. "Steve, I've been meaning to tell you this for a long time now." 

Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand, feeling of concern. "What's on your mind, Buck?" 

Loud crashing waves echoed behind them. 

Bucky sighed, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them back up. "Well, first of all, I’m crazy in love with you. You know that right?" 

A seagull chirped in the background, a wave washed over their feet, wetting up to their ankles. 

"Mhm course, ‘cause so am I." 

“Here, you should sit down for this.” Bucky tugged Steve’s hand and led him over to a shady spot underneath a palm tree. They sat facing each other, knees bumping. 

“Remember when Shuri helped with your allergic reaction?” 

“Yeah, she was the best nurse I’ve ever had.” Steve paused, sensing something terribly wrong had happened. “Why?” 

“You might not remember since you were so out of it, but I said some things you need to know.” 

No amount of thinking brought up anything, his mind was blank with nothing. Though one memory did slip through, some douchebag of a doctor. Rimblow? Rumblew? Whoever it was, Bucky spoke negatively about him. 

“That other doctor you kept refusing to come into my room?” 

Bucky shook his head with a sad frown. “No, this has nothing to do with him.” Inhaling through his nose, his shaking hands struggled to unloop the top buttons. 

Thinking he could be of help, Steve almost unclasped a button before a hand shot out and pulled his away. “Bucky?” 

“Please don’t.” Bucky’s voice cracked, bottom lip wobbling. “I— I’m sorry, just— let me do this on my own.” 

Steve leaned back against the tree, watching how the wind blew Bucky’s hair in all sorts of directions. Just enough sun shined beneath the leaves, casting down on Bucky’s head like a halo. _Beautiful_ was all that came to mind. 

“Steve, when I told you I got into a car accident I didn’t exactly go into much detail.” Bucky undid the first two buttons. “It’s hard for me to talk about it and when I do, it’s because I trust someone enough.” Six buttons were undone. “But I didn’t just get into a car accident I—” All but one button was undone, a few tears escaped his eyes, head bowed forward.

“I was kidnapped by my med school professor,” Bucky whispered so quietly, Steve could barely hear him throughout the leaves hitting against each other from the wind. 

Bucky continued talking, not stopping for a moment, though his voice raised to an angry one. “Fuckin’ piece of shit Zola stalked me the whole semester apparently and thought I was a perfect candidate for his illegal drug trial. I was running late that night ‘cause of an upcoming exam and he—” Bucky wiped his face with the collar of his shirt, wetting it instantly. 

“Drugged me,” Bucky dragged out. “It wasn’t enough to completely knock me out, and he threw me in the backseat of some old fancy car and was gonna take me to God knows where and I— I goddamn knew I had to do something. I kicked, I screamed, I did everything to get out of that goddamn car.”  
  
“Nothing worked since the windows were shatterproof. Until a truck rammed into the driver’s side, killing him instantly and leaving me with only a damaged shoulder but—” 

Faded red, deep scar tissue ran up from Bucky’s upper shoulder, around his entire armpit and down to his chest. “Wherever we crashed, the land belonged to a royal family who happened to be Shuri’s relatives. So they took me in, made me some vibranium implants to hold everything together. I would'a lost my arm if not for them. I consider them a close family now 'cause I dunno what'd I do without them. ” 

Whatever Steve prepared to hear, was nothing like this. Someone wanted to take _his Bucky_ off somewhere and do horrible things to him. Instead, a tragic accident nearly saved his life. 

“I— Jesus Buck, that’s horrible.” Steve so badly wanted to give Bucky comfort, he looked like he needed it. “Can I hug you?” 

All the built up tension left Bucky’s body, he nodded and spread his arms out. Steve carefully wrapped both arms around Buck’s midsection. Gently, Steve pressed his lips directly on the scar tissue, one soft kiss over where his arm meets his shoulder. 

“Before you say anything, you’re beautiful the way you are, Buck.” 

“Stevie,” Bucky sighed his name out as if it was the only word he knew. “I’m not as strong as I look.”  
  
“Yes, you are.” Steve took Bucky’s face into his palms, pressing their foreheads together. “Bucky, you fought for your life and won. You’re a survivor.” 

Tears like rain poured from Bucky’s eyes, down his already wet tear spotted cheeks. Bucky pulled Steve closer, both arms clutching his upper back with soft broken sobs hitching each breath against the crook of Steve’s neck. The realization hit Steve. When it happened a few times before, Bucky's cries had been quiet, peaceful almost. This was truly broken down, gut wrenching sobs. As if Bucky had held all his tears since that day and let it all out at this moment. 

“It’s okay, Buck.” Steve rubbed both hands over his back, just like all those times Bucky did for him. “You’re here with me, I won’t let you go.”

Bucky wiped his face on Steve’s shirt, though he didn’t mind. “How’d I manage to be with a guy like you, huh?” 

“I wonder the same thing, so right back at’cha.” 

They cuddled for a while, staying underneath the large palm tree long enough to watch the sunset. Afterward, they started the long trek back up to the house for Bucky to start dinner preparations. Turns out, Bucky loved to cook. 

Eating by candlelight out in the patio deck, some baked salmon with a side of angel hair pasta tossed into a cream sauce were neatly presented on a plate. 

Steve moaned into his first bite, such flaky juicy salmon mixed with the lemony flavor of the pasta. “For a doctor, you sure do know how to cook.”

Bucky blushed at the compliment, a warm smile on his face. “I enjoy cooking almost as much like my job.” He twirled a bit of pasta on his fork. “Maybe I’ll bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies just for you one day.” 

A piece of salmon fell off Steve’s fork, falling into a pile of pasta. “You bake too? How lucky am I.” 

“Don’t get too carried away now. I’ve got other desserts planned,” Bucky winked, a flirty devilish grin crossing his mouth. 

Later that night, Bucky led Steve to the master bedroom and took sweet time with preparation, not wanting to hurt Steve as it was his first time. Soon, they made slow passionate love, gentle hands touching each other as if they already knew each other's bodies by heart. Nearly the same time, their releases came and washed over them, heavy breathing between one another as they cuddled up underneath the sheets. 

Bucky titled Steve’s chin, kissing his swollen lips from their earlier activities. “Baby, the more I get to know you, the more I fall in love with you.” 

“You really wanna get to know me?” Steve asked, getting a confused raised brow from Bucky. “Then carry me to the hot tub.” 

Bucky shoved at Steve playfully, scoffing. “You punk. Better be glad that I’m so madly in love with you ‘cause I’ll do just that.” 

Bucky swept Steve off his feet, sheet, and all trailing behind them. “Buck! I didn’t mean it that way!” 

“What?” Bucky laughed, maneuvering to open the sliding door. “You told me to carry you.” 

Once settled in the warm bubbles and jets, they huddled up together, just the two of them beneath the stars. 

“I’m so glad we met.” Steve’s back against Bucky’s chest, he peered up at Bucky’s beautiful face, hair pulled in a messy bun. “I couldn’t imagine myself being with anyone else.”

Bucky stretched his legs out, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Neither could I.” Bucky rested a hand on Steve’s lower back, other carding through his blonde hair. “You’re the best person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” 

Steve sat on his knees, meeting Bucky’s lips. "Love you.”

Bucky deepened the kiss. “Love you so much too, Stevie.” 

A phone rang inside the house, the door left wide open so they’d hear it. “I better get that.” Bucky dripped wet as he climbed out, giving Steve a great view of his naked ass. He wouldn’t lie, Bucky had a great ass. 

Bucky came right back out with his phone tucked beside his ear. “This is Dr. Barnes speaking.” He paced around, rolling his eyes and mouthing ‘on hold’ when Steve asked. Some kind of well spoken almost human like robotic voice came over the phone, loud enough to hear without it being on speaker. “It’s past ten and I’ve taken time off. Is this a dire emergency or not?” He sighed and held his phone away from his ear. “Patch me through, JARVIS.” 

Bucky passed the phone to Steve. “It’s for you.”

“What?” Steve held it up to his ear regardless of what his gut told him. Who besides their friends wanted to speak to Steve when this was Bucky’s work number? Let alone, how did they know who he was? And why? 

A voice of someone who had way too much caffeine this time of night spooked Steve, almost causing him to drop the phone in the water if not for the death grip he held. “Is this the boyfriend of my daughter’s doctor who’s created some fan-freaking-tastic comics that are two hundred percent underrated? Honestly, it’s criminal for something like that to go to waste.” 

“Mr. Stark?” Steve yelled, not caring about the volume of his voice, he sat up straighter and looked at Bucky with a face plastered of _‘what and how the hell is this happening.’_ Bucky got back in the tub, smiling the whole time like he knew something prior. “My comics? How did you—” 

“Oh god please no.” He groaned, metal clattering to the floor echoed in the background. “Don’t call me that, you’re making me feel like my father who I never want to associate myself with. Although I do thank him for getting me into this position, however— alright that’s beside the point.”  
  
A clap of hands, maybe he was on speaker phone or something. Or whatever fancy tech Stark had. “Please, call me Tony.” 

“Okay, Tony. Um, you said you liked my comics? But how? I never—” Bucky tapped Steve on the shoulder, smiling with a nod. Bucky actually went through with his promise, it wasn’t just a fever dream Steve thought he had. “Oh my God.”  
  
“Ding ding ding! We have a winner. Beautiful work by the way and I’ve only seen...” Tony tutted. “A single sketchbook plus a couple of photos? You’ve got more right? Please tell me you’ve got more or I’ll cr— my daughter will be so disappointed.” 

Steve covered the receiver with his hand. “You showed him one of my sketchbooks?” he whispered, ignoring the non-stop chatter over the phone. 

Bucky shrugged, slinging an arm over Steve’s shoulder. “It must’ve fallen out during the move and I didn’t notice it ‘till I was on the way to work. I was gonna give it back but I thought, what the hell.” 

“I would be yelling at you right now if I wasn’t about to jump out of my skin from all the excitement.” 

Tony never shut up once Steve lifted the phone back up to his ear. “What do you say? We got a deal? I’ll give you the whole shebang, no bullshits around here.” 

Steve sputtered, the reality was actually happening. “As in—” Tony answered for him thankfully because he doesn’t know if he had the capacity. “Yes! Of course, I will. Thank you so much, I don’t know what else to say.”  
  
“Don’t thank me, thank my daughter for sneaking a glance. She’d throw me a new one if I didn’t try and get you published. It’s not ruined or anything by the way.” Tony paused, Steve was speechless to ask what was going on. “Speaking of the calvary, I gotta go. I’ll keep you in touch. How ‘bout a tour on Monday morning? Pepper would be glad to meet you. Oh and I'll give you that sketchbook back.”  
  
Steve still couldn’t get any words out. Bucky took the phone from him. “I think you broke him, Tony,” he giggled, poking Steve to get a reaction. “He’ll be there, I’ll make sure of it.” 

After hanging up the call, Bucky set the phone aside. “Stevie?” He waved a hand in front of Steve’s face. “Earth to my babydoll.” 

Steve blinked rapidly and shook his head. “Huh? What? Yeah, I’m here. Just not sure what plane of existence I’m on.” 

“Took you by surprise, huh?” Bucky nuzzled his face in Steve’s hair. “I should’ve given you a heads up but what fun would that be? Then I wouldn’t have gotten to see your cute face sputtering about.” 

“I’m getting published,” Steve said out loud, slowly. “I’m getting published,” he repeated. “I’m getting published!” 

“You’re getting published.” Bucky tipped Steve in the water and laid a long hard kiss on his lips. 

He had his asthma under control, a boyfriend because of it, a handful of great friends and now _he was getting published._ Steve's hard work paid off since he went to a new doctor, only with the intent to improve his health but instead, he found love on the way to recovery. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That salmon they ate is no joke, it's SO good. I love it so much https://natashaskitchen.com/baked-salmon-with-garlic-and-dijon/
> 
> SO where does this leave us? Because I'm not done writing of course haha.  
> 1) Oneshots for this series!  
> 2) Crazy off the wall crack oneshots that my brain comes up with. (set in canon) + other canon oneshots that I'll try and take seriously lol.  
> 3) A Establish-Relationship Hospital!AU that I think will be a kid!fic? Not sure about that part yet BUT I'm gonna start writing it in a couple months after I write a few oneshots for this series. 
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, drugging, and a car accident.


End file.
